


Only You Can Cure My Sickness

by gabby227



Series: Safety Pin Our Broken Hearts Back Together [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Wolverine (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Boxing, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Anti-Social Bucky Barnes, Bisexual Sam Wilson, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Blow Jobs, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bottom Steve Rogers, Boxer Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Has PTSD, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Car Accidents, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, First Kiss, First Meetings (Again), Foster Care, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Manager Thor, Minor Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark, Minor Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, Minor Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier, Minor Logan/Kayla Silverfox, Minor Peggy Carter/Angie Martinelli, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Minor Riley/Sam Wilson, Multi, Pansexual Bucky Barnes, Pansexual Tony Stark, Past Child Abuse, Past Domestic Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Bucky Barnes, Psychologist Natasha Romanov, Slow Burn, Stucky Big Bang 2019, Suicidal Ideation, Suicidal Thoughts, Top Bucky Barnes, Top Tony Stark, but very minor, past self-harm, reconnecting, romantic sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:34:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 45,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21561535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabby227/pseuds/gabby227
Summary: Bucky Barnes had been through a lot in his childhood, in his lifetime. He had fought his battles, and faced his demons. With his circle of friends and his baby sister, what happens when he reunites with the one who got away?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Safety Pin Our Broken Hearts Back Together [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1553872
Comments: 15
Kudos: 71
Collections: Stucky Big Bang 2019





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the Stucky Big Bang 2019. I actually started this story a year ago but joined in the big bang to kind of push me to finish it, and I did. Now, I'm not gonna lie. There are some deep themes here. Past child abuse, past self-harm, past domestic violence, past alcoholism. I will warn for every one of them when they pop up. I tried to tag for everything but if I need to add/edit a tag, please let me know.
> 
> I want to thank both [Lady Ukkey](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyukkey/) and [RoseRose](http://archiveofourown.org/users/roserose) for the beta. You guys rock!

Life just wasn't fair.

Bucky knew that better than anyone. He knew the world didn't care about what was fair and what was not; he even knew that evil won sometimes. To be frank, if he was being honest with himself, it actually happened more often than not.

He knew that he was all kinds of fucked up. He knew things didn't make sense to him the way it did other people. He was the odd man out, the _outsider_. The only thing that was any kind of good in this world was his baby sister.

He'd been taking care of her since he was twenty-four -- almost five years after being released from foster care. He managed to get a job and procure a place to live so he _could_ take care of Becca.

He still had a hard time coping sometimes; foster care was the system that was put in place and designed to take care of kids like them. But it was the very thing that failed not only him, but his sister as well.

He wasn't sure if he felt secure in himself; he wasn't sure if he would _ever_ feel secure in who he was. But there was just a time in Bucky's life when he realized he had to step up and do what needed to be done.

That's how he was able to become Becca's guardian. He had a rather tough adolescence; bouncing in and out of different foster homes from the age of fourteen until he was released out of the state's custody when he was eighteen.

Somewhere along the line the state had gotten ahold of him and forced him to enter a court-ordered karate class, because, as they stated, _you have way too much anger bottled up and are like a ticking time-bomb_. 

It had been a two-part class; one part with the actual training, and the other part, a bunch of mediation and talking about triggers and how to avoid them. The only good thing that had come out of that class was that he discovered how much he loved fighting and tournaments. It was a good outlet for all the anger he carried around.

He'd practiced karate for a few years and then drifted over into mixed martial arts. That's when he met Natasha and Clint, his two best friends, his support system, and they knew him better than anybody, and that was a tough thing to say. The relationship he formed with them was one of the best and most important relationships of his life.

Bucky was a boxer for a while after he'd been released from foster care. It was something he'd both loved and lived for; the feel and smell of the gym, a way to keep his anger in check, and when he was in the ring with someone, nothing else mattered. Fighting was a coping mechanism he liked to use; he'd been using it for years. Whenever Bucky was in the ring with someone, he didn't have to think about anything except for whatever was happening in that moment. That's actually how he met Dugan.

Timothy Dugan had been the son of Bucky's trainer when he was seventeen and just starting out. His father was an amazing trainer, and he had his own gym where Bucky liked to go, because it was only about four blocks away from the foster home he'd resided at, and it felt, for lack of a better word, _homey_. It was a small place, right on the corner in-between a convenience store and a 24-hour diner. It was a place where everyone knew everyone else. From the very moment that Bucky walked into that gym, he had felt a sense of belonging and camaraderie that he'd never encountered before or since.

After the accident that stole Bucky's ability to fight, Dugan contacted him. He'd moved on to different trainers at that point, but Dugan had tracked him down anyway. His father had died, and he had inherited the gym and needed a partner. Dum Dum had palled around with Bucky many times over the years, and while he'd always known how well Bucky could fight, he also had a sense that he'd be able to train as well. He invited him on for a probationary period, just to see Bucky work hands-on with someone, and then Bucky ended up putting in capital, so he co-owned the gym.

Bucky adored his job at the gym, training fighters, and now, at twenty-six, he loved the fact that he didn't have to answer to anyone else. Becca was sixteen now, old enough to take care of herself when she needed to, but she was more than welcome down at the gym. And not only was Dum Dum a good friend of Bucky's, Becca looked at him like another brother.

Because Bucky had been a fighter in his youth, he had a prideful feeling knowing his sister had also taken up fighting, even if it _had_ started as a way for her to blow off steam. She did it when she was upset about something, mostly, but Bucky was the one who trained her, and she spent most of her time fighting with either Dugan, Natasha, or Clint.

Even though his circle pretty much revolved around Dugan, Natasha, Clint, and a handful of friends, mostly his employees, there was one person Bucky missed. It didn't matter how good his life was or how many friends he had; he would _always_ regret losing contact with Steve.

Bucky had met Steve Rogers back when he was a sophomore in high school when Steve was just a scrawny little thing who had something against the world and felt like he had something to prove. And then, when he hit eighteen, he had a growth spurt to end all others. He was probably Bucky's best friend in the entire world -- except for Clint and Natasha -- and, after getting his growth spurt, he would come down to the gym and he and Bucky would train together.

But Steve had a really bad habit -- he hated bullies. And sure, hating bullies wasn't exactly a _bad_ thing, but even when he was just skin and bones, he had an Irish temper and the courage of a lion, but not the body to match. Bucky had spent the next few years getting Steve out of trouble when he inevitably got himself into it.

Steve and Bucky were split up once Steve turned eighteen because he had decided he wanted to enlist in the Army. Steve felt a duty to fight for the United States, just as his father before him. He was shipped to an Army base on the other side of the world, and while they kept in touch with each other the first year or so, life ended up getting in the way and they lost contact with one another.

Bucky had spent the years after regretting he had let go so easily, but he didn't know how to fix it.

Out of the friends he had now, Bucky's friendship with Natasha was the one he valued the most. He loved her so much, but in a familial way. They had tried dating many years ago but found they were much better friends than lovers -- _that_ had been just plain _weird_. Now, Natasha was pretty much like another sister and wasn't afraid of telling him when she thought he was being a jackass.

Bucky fondly referred to her as the sister he never wanted.

And most of the time, he understood what Natasha was telling him and why she was saying it. While Natasha had gone through her own trials and tribulations, she didn't have a background in all the horrors that Bucky went through in foster care, but she knew a lot of people. It also helped that she worked at a teen depression hotline in college and was damn good at it. Even now, she had a newly procured PhD in psychology and wanted to do something in that field because she wanted to help people. That's what was important to her -- even if she _did_ try to shrink Bucky more times than he'd like.


	2. Chapter 2

For the last couple of months, Bucky had a steady routine -- eat, sleep, work, and Becca -- always Becca -- and it was so consistent that you could set your watch by it.

But when Natasha cornered him and told him she wanted him to come to a party with her, he was very hesitant to do so.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Tasha," he said, and he knew right away that she knew he was trying to avoid the real subject. "I've gotta work."

"James, you _own_ that damn gym," Natasha reminded him.

Natasha was the only person in the entire world, besides maybe Becca, who actually used his given name -- and Becca only did it when she was frustrated or irritated with him. He'd had enough people in foster care calling him that, or bastardized versions of it, that he almost always insisted people use his nickname.

Natasha and Becca were the only exceptions.

"Tasha, you know I don't do well with other people."

Bucky was purposely trying to avoid the gaze Natasha was giving him as he rummaged through the cupboards, trying to figure out what he was going to make Becca for dinner. He pulled out a box of macaroni, thinking that maybe his homemade baked macaroni and cheese would help lift her spirits.

It was _that_ day. The day they went into the system, all those years ago, and even though Becca had only been four at the time, she could remember the day like it was yesterday. It was just a bad day all-around; that's why Bucky always made her comfort food.

"It's actually more like a family gathering," Natasha amended from where she was seated at the kitchen island counter, a glass of iced tea in front of her. "Nothing to be nervous about. Just a thing a friend of mine is throwing, and I want you to come."

"What about Becca?" he asked. Maybe his sister could get him out of this.

No such luck. "Not gonna work, James," Natasha scolded, and that's when he noticed the disapproving frown on her face. "Becca's welcome, too. I want you both there."

"But you said _party_."

"Okay, firstly, Becca's sixteen now, James. She goes to parties with her classmates all the time. And secondly, I _did_ say party, but I _also_ said it's more like a family gathering. Every fall, they do this hayride thing and invite a bunch of friends and family. There are food and drinks -- non-alcoholic, actually -- and a big bonfire. Totally family-friendly."

"I still gotta work."

"Goddamn it, James, do I gotta call Dugan and get him in on this?" She smirked a little when she saw the startled look on his face. "That's what I thought. The two of you _own_ that damn gym, and besides that, the party doesn't even start 'til eight." She paused for a moment before adding, "I heard from a little birdie that your last client leaves at five on Saturday."

 _Goddamn it_. There was only one person who knew Bucky's schedule, aside from Dugan and Bucky himself. Apparently, Clint couldn't be trusted.

"Gym's open 'til eight, Tasha," Bucky reminded her. "You know that."

She did, too. There were many times that she helped out at the gym on her days off since she had been an MMA champion in her youth. She knew a hell of a lot more than just an average girl on the street.

She, however, wasn't buying his excuses. "Yeah, but the guys aren't gonna be bothered if you want to take off early. Everybody wants you to have a social life, James; you _know_ that."

It was true, too. Bucky didn't do much outside of work and Becca, and people had been on his back about going out for a long time. Instead of saying anything, however, Bucky just rolled his eyes at his friend.

"Are you staying?" Bucky asked her a mere moment later, realizing that he needed to know if he needed to make extra. Natasha was such a small girl, very petite, but ate like two grown men. And she never seemed to gain any weight, much to the dismay of practically everyone around her.

"For your homemade baked mac? Abso-fucking-lutely I am," she replied, and her enthusiasm made Bucky laugh.

Dinner had just gone into the oven when Becca came home twenty minutes later. She looked a little gloomy. Well, that was _exactly_ what Bucky had been expecting.

Bucky stood as Becca came through the front door, wrapping her up in a big hug. Becca melted into it, and Bucky placed a kiss on the top of her head.

She was crying. Bucky could feel the wetness seeping through his shirt and onto his chest.

"Come over here," he said gently, leading her over to the couch, and together, they just sat there, holding one another.

Bucky wasn't sure how much time passed, but eventually, Becca looked up, wiping her eyes. "They gave us up, Buck."

"I know they did," he nodded. His voice was gentle, soft. It was what Becca needed right now. "They didn't even fight for us."

They didn't talk about their parents very often; it made Becca too upset. In Bucky's opinion, they weren't exactly worth talking about, anyway. They both knew what happened all those years ago, and they weren't exactly parents to them before that, but both Bucky and his sister held the opinion that it would've been nice if they had fought. If they had wanted them so badly, they would've done anything they could to prove it.

They were a mistake. The both of them. Their father had even admitted it to Bucky one night, after a few too many beers, about how his wife and children were nothing but a mistake and his biggest regret. _If I could go back and rewrite time_ , his father had drunkenly admitted to an eleven-year-old Bucky, _I would've just stayed single. I'm not the type of man to be a husband and father._

Bucky had carried that for a really long time, and Becca didn't know the specifics about her father's intoxicated confession; she wasn't ever _going to_ know about it. She carried way too much on her shoulders for a sixteen-year-old kid, anyway, and if Bucky could take away all her pain, he'd do it in a heartbeat.

"C'mon, Becks," Natasha said, and for a brief moment, Bucky had forgotten she was even there. "James made baked mac for dinner. I just took it out of the oven."

"You did that for me?" Becca asked, wiping her eyes, turning to look at her brother. He just nodded.

Becca gave him a soft, grateful look, and then shot him a weak smile, "Thank you, big brother." And somehow, Bucky knew she wasn't thanking him _just_ for dinner.

***

"So, earlier, you pretty much changed the subject every time it came up," Natasha said to Bucky conversationally after they finished dinner and Becca was in the kitchen, algebra textbook open and her pencil tapping on the kitchen island countertop. "I want to go to that party, and I want you to come with me. How about it?"

Bucky was quiet for a few moments, the music from the stereo the only sound in the room. When he was still quiet, Natasha added, "C'mon, James. There's a guy I really want you to meet. Steve's an artist, by the way. I think the two of you would really get along."

Bucky cocked an eyebrow, "Steve?"

"He's gonna be at the party. The party is actually being thrown by his friend's mom, but Steve'll be there. He's always there."

Bucky gave Natasha a pointed _look_. "Are you inviting me to this party because you want me to meet _some guy_?" he asked incredulously. "Because if you are, I'm extremely disappointed in you."

Natasha returned Bucky's look with one of her own. "You know me better than that, James," she responded, disappointment laced throughout her voice. "I just want the two of you there with me."

Bucky sighed. "I have nothing in common with an artist," he said with a shrug. He was really hoping that Natasha would just drop the subject already.

No such luck. "You have a serious love for music," she said. When Bucky scoffed, she just shot him another look, "Oh, come on, James, they're both _the arts_."

Bucky never knew that somebody could make something that most people thought was so trivial sound so important before. It wasn't that _Bucky_ thought either of those things were trivial; God, music had played such an important part of his life ever since he was a teenager, and he knew something that seemed so small could be larger than life for someone who desperately needed it.

"You know, getting out and meeting some new friends would be good for you," Natasha added a moment later. Bucky figured she was switching tactics, so when she opened her mouth to say more, he just shook his head.

"I've known you for years, Tasha, and you're always trying to get me out of my comfort zone. You _do_ realize it's called the _comfort zone_ for a reason, right?"

"It is," Natasha agreed, and Bucky groaned. He knew that tone of voice. She was about to be completely rational with him, which was something he absolutely _loathed_.

"Think about your sister," Natasha said quietly, seriously. "What advice would you give her?"

Bucky raised an eyebrow, but knew she was right. If it were him giving advice to his sister, he'd tell her that, while taking her time is a good thing, don't ever let fear hold you back.

"What about my psychoses, though, Tasha?" he asked. Maybe he could still get out of this thing. "Not everybody is as understanding about the mental disorders as you are."

"You _do_ have issues with PTSD and social anxiety, yes," Natasha agreed, "and it's true that they _are_ hurdles, but you've done pretty well with them so far. What about me and Clint?"

"You guys are different. Always have been."

"You gotta quit stereotyping, James. Not everyone is gonna act the way those assholes did."

When Bucky didn't reply right away, Natasha added, "You've come a long way." Feeling self-conscious all of a sudden, he pulled the sleeves of his long-sleeved shirt down over his wrists, knowing what was there. The scars, the ones he wore these shirts to hide, they meant a hell of a lot more than just a blemish on his skin. And he knew that was _exactly_ what Natasha had been talking about.

"Things are different now, Tasha," he said quietly, his stormy eyes never leaving her green ones. "You and Clint are the only two that even try to understand what I've been through. The two of you actually take the time to listen to me when I talk."

"You made any new playlists lately?" Natasha asked him, which seemed completely out of the blue, but Bucky didn't have to be a genius to know where she was going with this.

Music was one of the only constants in his life. He loved music, and even though he couldn't carry a tune to save his life, it was the only thing he was addicted to, save for the boxing. He'd had problems with alcohol in the past and the proof of that was on his goddamned left arm. Music, however, was like his drug. He could never get enough. And he had workout playlists and everything, but one of the things that only Natasha knew was that he often made new playlists for whatever mood he was feeling. It wasn't that weird, Natasha had told him, but hardly anybody in Bucky's circle of friends did it. Music spoke to him and he needed it like he needed air to breathe.

"Look, I know what you're getting at, but I think meeting new people is just a bad idea right now."

Natasha licked her lips and then watched him closely, her emerald eyes just studying him. Then, letting out a deep breath, she continued, "Okay, Barnes, I'm not asking anymore. I'll be here on Saturday night, six-thirty sharp. Does that give you enough time to shower and everything after work?"

He nodded slowly, "Why?"

"Because you're going to that party, and you're going to ride there with Clint and me so you can't chicken out. You're going to that party whether you like it or not."

Bucky shot her a glare, but he also knew that she would never _force_ him to do anything he was absolutely uncomfortable with. But, like an overprotective sister he just couldn't shake, Natasha only wanted what was best for him.

He let out a huff of air before nodding. "Great," Natasha said, standing up. "I really ought to get back to Clint. Date night tonight."

"You stood him up for dinner," Bucky commented. "I know what today is."

Of course he did. He was the one to talk Natasha down from a panic attack before her very first date with Clint five years ago. She was so worried about taking that first step, going from friends to lovers, that she almost didn't go. That was, until Bucky found out about it.

"We aren't having dinner," she replied. "He knew I was going to be over here, anyway, to try to talk some sense into you."

She came forward, giving Bucky a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and then said, "I'll see you on Saturday, James. I'll be here at six-thirty, sharp. You better be ready."

***

Sitting on the balcony outside of his bedroom, Bucky lit a cigarette and took a long drag. It was a cold night in the middle of October and, even though he could practically see his breath, Bucky welcomed the cold.

Becca had gone to bed about half an hour ago, and Bucky was just thinking. That was something he did often; he contemplated his life and how far he'd come. Life hadn't been easy; it was just the hand he'd been dealt. He'd made peace with everything that had happened to him a long time ago. Bucky could pretty much deal with anything life threw his way, but his sister -- God, Becca didn't deserve this shit.

Becca was so innocent, so pure, and Bucky didn't want anything bad to happen to her. She had been the one to anchor him when he was feeling his lowest; she was the one thing he could think about that would put everything in perspective.

Things had been so different back then, back in foster care. The first thing the state did was split them up, even though Becca had been four years old and scared to death, and Bucky had been fourteen and hated the world. His world had been crushed once they separated them and he wasn't allowed to talk to her, thanks to the sadists of foster parents he'd had at the time. But when he was so close to committing suicide back when he was a teenager, there was just one thing that made him think twice -- Becca.

He had been such an angry teenager. He hated everyone and, for a really long time, it was Bucky Barnes versus the world. He went through seven different foster homes in the first two years he was in the system and, at the time, they had decided he was a lost cause. That's when they sent him to residential.

St. Vincent's Home for Children was a residential foster home located in downtown Brooklyn, and it functioned a lot like an orphanage. It was where the kids who didn't have any suitable foster homes that would take them wound up. It's also where he met Steve. Steve, who had a penchant for fighting and had lost his mom the previous year.

Bucky was written off as a bad kid, and even though Bucky was able to charm pretty much anyone he wanted to in the beginning, he started to get bitter towards the world. He wasn't a bad kid, he now realized, but too much shit had just happened to him; a bunch of bad things hit all at once and left him feeling incredibly overwhelmed.

He knew that, since he was so much older than she was, once he left the system, he'd be looking for Becca since she would probably still be in it. And if it turned out she'd been adopted -- well, he could deal with that, if he had to. But if not...he wasn't going to leave her to face this harsh world alone. No way in hell.

Bucky stubbed his cigarette butt in the ashtray he kept out on the balcony and then headed inside. Maybe tomorrow he could actually get excited about that damn party on Saturday.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's art in this chapter thanks to [marvelling-you](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tourmalinex/pseuds/marvellingyou). The art is fantastic and I love it!

When Saturday rolled around, Bucky was still trying to figure out how to get out of that goddamned party. He knew it was a worthless effort; he waited a little too long to come up with an excuse, and besides that, Natasha had already told Becca about it.

She really had played dirty.

Because if there was one thing that Bucky's friends -- or anyone acquainted with him, really -- knew, it was that his sister had him wrapped around her little finger. She could ask him for anything and, more often than not, he would do everything in his power to make it happen.

And Becca loved parties.

The one thing that Bucky was grateful for was that Becca wasn't a hollowed-out shell -- not the way he was. He was incredibly grateful that Becca had actually had a foster family that _wanted_ her -- a family that took great care of her and loved her. He wasn't sure if he would've been able to handle it if she'd been hurt the way he had.

It was well-known that Dugan never came in on Saturdays unless he absolutely had to, so it was up to Bucky to open the gym at eight that Saturday morning. He knew Dugan would probably show up sometime in the afternoon, just to see how things were going, but he'd only stick around for a couple hours.

After opening the doors, the next people in the gym were Clint, who had an appointment at nine, and Natasha, who was working on a paper.

Bucky made sure to give Natasha a dirty look as she and Clint came through the front doors. They came in hand-in-hand, and Clint just laughed at the sour look Bucky was making.

Natasha was working on a paper for _Psychology Today_ magazine about brain damage in boxers. And since Bucky trained a bunch of people who fought in tournaments, she had asked him, if it was okay with the subjects, to let her talk to some of his clients. Natasha knew all the statistics, had studied them diligently, and wanted to see how true they were.

So, she came in, mostly on Saturdays, which was the gym's busiest day, to talk to whomever she could. Bucky had a new client coming in today and wasn't sure how happy he'd be to be interviewed by Natasha. The rest of the people Natasha had interviewed had been clients of Bucky's -- or one of his employees -- for years. He was always apprehensive whenever a new client came in, because, even though Natasha always meant well, sometimes she could be a little...intense. You always knew where you stood with her, and while some people liked it, others...well, others, not so much.

"You know the name of the new guy coming in today?" Clint had asked Bucky when he was in his office, preparing for the day. "You keep saying, 'that new guy,' but you haven't actually told me his name."

"I would've, if he were your client," Bucky answered, "but he specifically asked for me."

"So...name?" Clint asked anyway, and Bucky rolled his eyes.

"Name's Sam Wilson, and all I know is that he knows a little bit about boxing and finally wants to enroll in a tournament later down the road. Don't know what tournament, didn't ask, but I told him to come in so I could see what he's working with."

"Are we hosting a tournament coming up?" Clint pondered aloud. Bucky and Dugan, or rather, _Commandos Gymnasium_ , hosted tournaments now and again, with a pretty big cash prize. They had a few sponsors who were always looking for new talent, but Bucky loved the tournaments. There were days he _really_ missed fighting.

"Dunno," Bucky answered, even though he knew Clint meant it as a rhetorical question. Bucky took a drink of coffee before adding, "Didn't ask."

"When's he coming in?"

"Noon," was Bucky's answer. He noticed the look that Clint was giving him, and, rolling his eyes, he asked, "Now what?"

"When are you gonna eat?"

Bucky groaned at the concerned look on his friend's face. "I brought a few things. I _am_ gonna eat, alright? Don't worry about that."

Bucky had a history of skipping meals every now and again, and when Natasha found out about it when Bucky'd been hospitalized for malnutrition several years ago, she and Clint had started paying _very special attention_ to Bucky's eating habits. They were on his case about it all the time and, even though he understood why, it still drove him crazy.

When he was in foster care, in the beginning, he'd been severely abused and sometimes didn't know where his next meal was coming from, so he became accustomed very early on in his teenage years to skipping meals so he'd have enough food. Food was Bucky's security blanket -- he had spent years foraging for food and worried that he wasn't going to have enough, thus he hoarded it like someone in the Great Depression would've.

Natasha and Clint didn't let him use that as an excuse, however.

"You know what'll happen if Nat finds out otherwise," Clint said, and Bucky nodded, because _yes, he did_.

When Clint's first client came in at nine, that gave him a reason to leave Bucky alone, and he was grateful for it.

It had been several years since the accident, since he was able to fight, but training fighters was what Bucky was made for. He loved it; the smell and feel of the gym, loved the hands-on training with the people he worked with.

Sam Wilson turned out to be a good-looking black man who had the perfect amount of playfulness with a very good work ethic. Within an hour of meeting him, Bucky could tell that he didn't have a mean bone in his body.

After Sam had showered, Natasha approached him and they hugged, so Bucky figured they somehow knew one another. That was the norm, though; Natasha knew a lot of people and she was extremely outgoing. She was the complete opposite of Bucky; Natasha was the happiest when she was surrounded by people. She could make friends as easy as breathing. She was so much like Becca in that respect.

Bucky envied them so much for that.

"You two know each other?" he asked, watching them interact. Natasha grinned.

"Hell yeah. Haven't seen you in forever, Wilson. Where've you been hiding?"

"Been spending most of my time at the VA," he answered Natasha, eyeing Bucky suspiciously. Bucky didn't think anything of it, although it _did_ seem a little strange.

"This is one of Steve's buddies," Natasha supplied. She turned to look at Sam, "Did he come along?"

Sam shook his head, "Nah. He had things to do before the party tonight. Mom wanted his help."

" _Your_ mom is the one throwing the party, Wilson," Natasha laughed. "Why aren't _you_ helping?"

Sam shrugged, "She wanted some artistic something-or-other. I don't know, wasn't really paying attention. Besides, I've had this appointment with Bucky for two weeks. I didn't want to miss it."

Natasha nodded and, for a brief moment, the two of them seemed to be having a conversation with their eyes. Then Sam looked at Bucky, surprise etched on his features, and almost exclaimed, "Wait, is _he_ James?"

"Only Tasha calls me James," he answered.

"Well, it was nice to meet you, Bucky," Sam said, a twinkle in his brown eyes. "I'll see you later tonight then."

***

"Bucky! Tasha's gonna be here in, like, twenty minutes! Are you coming or not?"

When Bucky heard Becca's voice, he rolled his eyes. He _really_ didn't want to do this. He didn't want to go to some party where Natasha would force him to socialize with people he'd never met. He didn't want to go to a place he didn't know, a place he didn't feel comfortable being. He would very much rather spend the night binge-watching sci-fi movies and spending time with Becca.

One of the major differences between Bucky and his sister was that Becca was a social butterfly. Becca loved parties; she loved being around new people, and she could talk to anyone. Bucky was more reserved; he had a hard time connecting with people unless he found someone he clicked with right away -- like it'd been when he first met Natasha. He hadn't clicked with anyone the way he had Natasha, unless you counted Steve and Clint, but it was _Natasha_ who was forcing him to socialize and meet new people.

"Jesus Christ, Becca, I'm coming," Bucky barked. He was clearly showing his agitation, even though he was trying really hard to rein it in. He stepped into the living room, where Becca was braiding her hair in the full-length mirror attached to the wall adjacent to the kitchen. "You think if I pretended to be sick, Tasha would just let it go?"

"Absolutely not," Becca frowned. She caught her brother's eyes in the mirror and sighed. After putting a ribbon around the end of her braid, she twirled around to look her brother up and down. "Tasha and I love you, Buck. We just want you to be happy."

"Then why not just leave me the fuck alone?"

"Because we want you to go out, meet new people. You know, you're going to be one of those people who grow old surrounded by a bunch of cats."

Bucky rolled his eyes.

As promised, Natasha was there at six-thirty, and it was about an hour before they were pulling onto a dirt driveway that led to a farm.

As much as Bucky adored the countryside of New York, he hated this. He hated that he went there of his own free will.

"Hey, sweetheart," an older woman greeted Natasha, giving her a hug and then Clint a kiss on the cheek. She looked over at Bucky, who was just standing there awkwardly, and then looked at Becca, who showed the complete opposite. She was just looking around, like she was completely fascinated with her surroundings, and the woman asked, "Who do we have here?"

"James, Becca, this is Darlene. Darlene, this is James and Becca Barnes. James is a good friend of mine, and Becca's his baby sister."

" _Natasha_ ," Becca whined, "I'm too old to be a baby _anything_."

"Not with that whine, you're not," Natasha replied sarcastically. It made Bucky laugh.

Darlene came forward, shaking Bucky's hand and then Becca's. "It's nice to meet you both."

"I met your son this afternoon," Bucky said conversationally. When Darlene looked confused, Bucky clarified, "I co-own the gym over on 49th. Commandos Gymnasium."

"I thought Sammy told me the guy he had an appointment with was named _Bucky_."

"I am," he said, shooting an annoyed glance at Natasha. "Only Tasha calls me James."

This wasn't the first time someone had gotten confused about his names; Natasha refused to call him by his nickname. _Bucky_ , she'd stated on more than one occasion, _was the name of a child or a pet. Not a full-grown man_.

"Oh. Well, it's nice to meet you, then, Bucky."

"C'mon, James," Natasha said after a few moments, hating the awkward look on his face. "I see Steve over there. I want to introduce you."

Bucky nodded silently.

Natasha took him by the hand and led him over to a field where a man was watching the horse run. It was a beautiful deep brown Clydesdale horse, and he seemed completely enraptured by it.

"Hey, Steve!" Natasha called, running up and dragging Bucky behind her. The man turned around, and even though he was gorgeous, he had an air of familiarity to him. So Bucky wasn't just gazing at a gorgeous stranger; there was a nagging feeling in his head. The _I have definitely seen him before_ took precedence over everything else.

And it didn't take very long, either. "Oh my God," he breathed, realization hitting him like a brick. " _Steve_? Little _Stevie Rogers_?"

"Hey, Buck," Steve said softly, smiling. That's when Bucky turned to Natasha.

"How?" he demanded.

"I know some people," was her vague reply, but honestly, Bucky wasn't expecting much more. "I should go mingle. I'll see you guys later." And with a smirk and a wink his way, Natasha was off to talk to someone else.

Bucky rolled his eyes. "I'm getting her back for this," he muttered, and it made Steve crack a smile.

"Let's go and sit," Steve offered. "We have some major catching up to do."

He felt like he was sixteen again, meeting Steve for the first time at St. Vincent's. Steve had just lost his mother, and even though Bucky had been in the system a couple of years already, he was angry at the world and not dealing with the abandonment very well. He missed his sister more than anything, but he wasn't able to talk to her, so when Steve needed someone to take care of him because he was so reckless, Bucky leapt at the role. Honestly, Bucky fit the role like he'd been born for it. It filled a little bit of the void.

Even though Steve had decided to enlist at eighteen and Bucky had gone on to become a professional boxer, Steve and Bucky had kept in touch the first year or so. Then life just happened and got in the way, and both of them had a lot more to think about than just a childhood friend.

"Oh my God," Bucky breathed again after they went and sat down on the back deck. "I don't even know what to say."

He was still trying to get his head around the fact that he was here. Steve Rogers, the guy who'd been his best friend and biggest crush -- although he wasn't going to tell _him_ that -- and the one person he'd thought he'd lost forever, and he was sitting here in front of him.

"I still can't believe this," Bucky said. Steve just laughed.

"Tell me how life's been," Steve insisted. "After we lost contact, I mean."

"I was a boxer for a few years, until I was twenty-three," Bucky started. Even though he didn't bring up the accident around many people, this was Steve, and he had always trusted Steve wholeheartedly. "Then the accident happened. It cost me my boxing career, but Dugan wanted a partner for the gym, so I joined him." His right hand flew up to rub his left arm but felt a little bit better knowing that Steve wasn't able to see it. "I can't complain about my life the way it is. Taking care of Becca. Running my gym."

"Yeah, I know Sam was in there earlier today, right? Getting ready to compete in a big boxing thing being put on?"

Bucky nodded, "Yeah."

"Glad to hear you found your sister, though," Steve continued, almost as an afterthought. "The one thing you've wanted for as long as I've known you. How hard was it to find her?"

"Not that hard, really," Bucky responded. "I had a friend who tracked her down for me."

"A friend?"

By the way Steve had asked it, Bucky could tell he was curious, so he nodded. "Yeah. I don't usually go into it because I don't want her to get into any kind of trouble, but Tasha's the one who found Becca for me."

Natasha worked as a psychologist that worked closely with the FBI and she had resources that seemed almost limitless. "I've known Tasha for a really long time, which you already know, but after the accident, she was the psychologist I was assigned." When Steve shot Bucky a puzzled look, he shrugged, "Tasha does work here and there for various charities and organizations. She works closely with the Brooklyn Hospital." At Steve's nod, Bucky continued, "Tasha thought that maybe finding Becca for me would help my recovery -- which it did."

"You've said _accident_ twice," Steve commented, his eyes dropping down to where Bucky's hand was still absentmindedly rubbing his left arm. "What happened?"

"Pretty bad bike accident," Bucky replied. He didn't really want to go into it, but he could talk about it a little. "It cost me my boxing career, but I can still train fighters. I love doing it."

Steve nodded. Bucky could tell by the look on his friend's face that Steve knew there was more to the story, but he didn't push, much like the Steve he'd known all those years ago. Steve knew Bucky would go into it when he was ready.

They talked the rest of the night, pretty much ignoring everyone else at the party. Later on, Steve suggested they exchange phone numbers, and Bucky thought _why the hell not_ , so he gave Steve his number, and right before he left with Natasha, Clint, and Becca, Steve leaned over and gave Bucky a hug. Bucky didn't hug, he wasn't that tactile of a person unless the other person was either Natasha or Becca, but the hug with Steve felt...it felt oddly comfortable.

"I'll see you later, Buck," Steve smiled as Bucky was leaving. "I hope to hear from you soon."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry I haven't updated in a bit. I have an upper respiratory infection right now that's killing me, and I've barely been able to sit up lately. I hope you guys are liking the story so far!

Bucky had issues with keeping in touch with people. He went through anti-social phases where he would only talk to the people he had to. He could be social at work, and he was an excellent faker. He could make people believe he was fine when, in truth, he wasn't.

Three days after the party, Bucky was surprised when he received a text from Steve asking if he wanted to hang out, but honestly, he didn't want to go anywhere. Becca had a big history test coming up, and that was a subject that Bucky had always been good at. He loved it; he had always been so sure that if boxing hadn't taken up such a big part of his life, he would've gone to college for something along those lines. But he liked what he was doing now.

So he decided to talk to Becca about it. Becca was sixteen now, and even though Bucky looked at her like his baby sister a lot of the time, he was trying to remind himself that Becca was growing up, and with everything the two of them had gone through as children, she really had wisdom beyond her years, a lot like Bucky had at that age.

"You knew him?" Becca asked him that afternoon. They were sitting at the kitchen island counter, and the counter was a mess, covered in textbooks and notebooks and a bunch of pencils and things. While Bucky would call it a mess, Becca would label it as _organized chaos_.

"Yeah, I knew him," he confirmed. He took a sip of his lemonade and then continued, "I knew him really well. I was sixteen when I first met him. He was fifteen, and he'd just lost his mom. His dad died before he was born, and he had no living family. He needed someone. He needed a friend."

"So you became his friend?"

"We became friends to _each other_ ," he answered adamantly. "I didn't have anyone, either. I had no idea where you were, I didn't think I'd ever see you again." He noticed the look on Becca's face, like she wanted to apologize -- she'd done a lot of that after they'd found each other again, and he spent so much time constantly reminding her that it wasn't her fault -- but he just ignored it. "I needed a link -- think of it like an anchor, if you will. Someone to tie me to my sanity. I was so very angry, all the time, and that little shit needed someone to look after him. He started fights all the time. He always had something to fight for and, at the time, I don't even think he weighed a hundred pounds soaking wet. I pulled that little punk out of more fights than you could even imagine."

"And he became your anchor?"

Bucky nodded, glad that Becca understood the metaphor. "Yeah, he was it. He was my light in the very dark place I was in. He helped me become...well, _me_."

Becca nodded again, "Bucky, I know we've _just_ reconnected, and we were apart for almost ten years, but you need other people than just me, big brother."

"I have Tasha and Clint."

"You know I love Tasha and Clint," Becca nodded. She took a drink of her own Pepsi, "I mean it. They were there for you when I couldn't be, and Tasha _is_ pretty amazing."

"Don't let Clint hear you say that," Bucky chuckled. Ever since he became his sister's guardian, Clint and Natasha had an ongoing squabble, for some reason, about which one of them was the coolest older sibling. Granted, neither of them were biologically related, and they both agreed that Bucky was the best, but for adopted siblings, they weren't so bad.

"They're both cool in their own separate ways," Becca amended. "I keep telling them one isn't gonna outdo the other. I love them both." She cleared her throat before continuing, "And I know you've got Dum Dum, and I love him, too. But, big brother, you live your life like you're afraid. You're afraid of letting people in."

"I _am_ afraid," Bucky replied, and he wouldn't admit that to just _anyone_. It was only because this was his sister, and she knew him, sometimes better than he knew himself. "I'm so fucking scared. I can't trust people. People, in general, terrify the ever-living fuck outta me and I do my best to keep them at arm's length."

"You can't do that forever, Buck," Becca said softly, seriously, her stormy blue eyes incredibly soft and tender while looking at him. "The wolves are gonna find you no matter where you are. Look, I had the best foster family in the entire world. They were amazing and taught me so many things. When I came out as bi to them, they accepted me for who I was. And yeah, they couldn't adopt me, but in every other way, they were amazing. But I've met a few unsavory characters in my life, and even in their house, I've been hurt. I had the most incredible foster family in the entire world, and even they couldn't save me from the cruelty of the world. It doesn't matter who you are, Buck; bad things happen to good people -- that's life."

Bucky sat back in his chair for a moment to let Becca's words sink in a little. He opened his mouth, as if to speak, and then closed it again. He did it a couple of times before taking a deep breath and then saying, "You really are wise beyond your years, little sister."

"I know things," she replied, grinning. Then she turned sincere, "In all seriousness, Buck, invite him over. Maybe he's just as much of a sci-fi geek as the two of us. I'd love to meet him."

"Really? Why?"

"He was there for you at a time I couldn't be. You needed someone, and he was your light. You really needed someone at that time, Buck, to help you feel _human_. A person can only carry so much grief before they feel like they're drowning in it. And he was there for you."

"Alright," Bucky conceded. "But I'm seriously limiting your time with Tasha. She's starting to rub off on you."

Becca laughed, "There are worse people I could sound like. Besides, if you think anything can stop Tasha from doing what she wants to, big brother, you definitely have another thing coming."

***

Bucky invited Steve over for dinner the next day. It was a Wednesday, and Bucky had gotten home at six-thirty that evening. Sam had come into the gym again, and Bucky really enjoyed working with him. Sam seemed to sense that Bucky had social anxiety problems, whether or not Natasha had told him as much. Bucky was often uncomfortable around a lot of people, and whenever Sam noticed, he took the opportunity to make a joke. Even though Bucky hadn't thought it would in the beginning, it _did_ help.

When Bucky walked into the apartment, he was surprised to see Becca on the couch, talking to Steve. "What are you doing here?" he asked his sister. "I thought you had a study date tonight with your not-boyfriend."

" _Not-boyfriend_?" Steve asked curiously. "What does that even mean?"

"It's the guy she's kinda, sorta, but not really dating," Bucky answered, ignoring the irritated look on his sister's face. "I don't get teenagers."

Steve let out a nervous laugh, "Me neither, Buck."

"Something came up. He had to cancel." She watched her brother before adding, "Besides, what better way to get to know one of my brother's old friends than to have dinner with them?"

Bucky just shrugged.

"Dinner's in the oven," Becca announced after a mere moment had passed. "I put it in when I got home from school, just like you asked me to."

Bucky had made up a pan of chicken ranch enchiladas, which was one of Becca's favorite dinners, and he would bet his left arm that was one of the reasons she called off her study date. He made it up in the morning before he left for work and asked her to put it in the oven when she got home from school before she left for her study date. Bucky was glad to know that Becca had done so.

"Thanks, Becca," Bucky nodded at his sister. "Should be finished any time now, huh?"

Becca nodded.

Bucky went into the kitchen to check the timer on top of the stove. When he saw it had only half an hour, he went back into the living room. "I need to jump in the shower," he stated when Becca and Steve looked at him. "Twenty minutes, tops. That's okay, right?"

Even though Bucky had been addressing Steve, Becca watched her brother and said, "Go, Buck. You stink."

Bucky rolled his eyes.

Bucky took the time in the shower to have a minor panic attack. He had them pretty badly, but sometimes he managed to keep himself under control. Even when he did, he couldn't keep it under wraps for very long -- usually, twenty minutes at most.

So, in the safety of his home, in the solace of his shower, Bucky let himself have a minor freak-out.

He was here. _Steve_ was here. And yeah, Bucky knew he'd be coming -- hell, he'd invited Steve for dinner -- but now that he was actually here, Bucky wasn't sure he could do it. It'd been eight years since he'd last seen him, and even though they had clicked pretty well at the party the weekend previous, he was starting to get nervous. What the fuck was he even going to say to him, anyway?

When they were back at St. Vincent's together, Steve and Bucky had clicked. They were so close. But all those years apart -- they did something to him. Bucky had changed since the last time he saw Steve, and he was at least ninety-eight percent sure that Steve had changed as well.

Most of it boiled down to the accident. When Bucky met Steve all those years ago, he was angry at the entire world, yeah, but he was cocky and confident and hid all his pain under sarcasm. He wasn't even sure he could do that anymore.

The accident wasn't the thing that had ruined him, but it had added to his brokenness. He was never going to be that cocky, confident, sarcastic sixteen-year-old boy again. He just hoped that Steve understood that.

Twenty-five minutes later, dressed down in a pair of sweatpants and a grey t-shirt, he went downstairs to see Steve and his sister.

Bucky had considered covering up his arm so Steve wouldn't be able to see it, but he was in his home and he wanted to be comfortable. Besides, if Steve was the same guy as the one Bucky had known all those years ago, he wasn't going to comment on his scars.

On his way down the stairs, Bucky absentmindedly wondered what Becca and Steve had been talking about since he'd been in the shower. He'd lost too many years with his sister. He hadn't been able to have been there for her first crush, for her first kiss; to be there to dry her tears or to give her pep talks. There had been times that Becca had needed her big brother and Bucky hadn't been able to be there for that. Natasha often joked that Becca and Bucky were making up for lost time the way they joked around and teased one another now.

So, even though he was pretty sure that Becca was down there, telling Steve embarrassing stories, he embraced the idea. He wanted Steve to get to know his sister -- much like he told Becca earlier, Steve had been his anchor, his light in a very dark place. Bucky had spent most of his time furious at the entire world and Steve had always been there to make the bad things better.

He reached the kitchen just as the timer went off, so he took dinner out of the oven. He wasn't even in there for more than a minute before Becca came up behind him, "You done having your freak-out?"

"Jesus Christ, Becca," Bucky caught himself before he yelled, but he looked at his sister harshly. He set down the hot pan of enchiladas and then took a few deep breaths. "I didn't know you were back there. You almost gave me a fucking heart attack."

"Sorry," Becca apologized nonchalantly, not sounding sorry at all. "You gonna answer me, though?"

"How'd you know I was having a freak-out?" Bucky asked curiously. He opened the refrigerator and started pulling out fixings for a salad.

"I know you," she answered. "I don't know if Steve caught it, but the panic was written all over your face. You may fool other people, but you don't fool me, big brother."

As Bucky started cutting things up to put in the salad, he looked at his sister. "What do you think of him?" he asked her, interested.

"I like him," she stated. "He's nice. Warm and friendly. He seems to like you a whole lot, too."

Bucky nodded.

"You guys ever together?" she asked him suddenly. "I mean, together _together_? He talks about you way too much for there not to be feelings there."

Bucky shook his head, "Nah, we weren't ever together. Not like that. Just really good friends."

"Hmm," Becca hummed thoughtfully, and then went to the kitchen doorway. "I'm gonna tell him dinner is ready."

Bucky just nodded.

When Bucky was worried all those years apart was going to ruin whatever relationship he had with Steve, he realized as they sat down to eat that he really shouldn't have. Yeah, he and Steve had many years apart, and yeah, they both changed exponentially, but in so many ways, he and Steve were still the same.

"You know I'm running the gym now," Bucky said to Steve at dinner, watching his friend carefully. "What are you doing?"

"I'm a photographer," Steve replied, taking a drink of his lemonade. "I've done a few things here and there, showing my pieces at art galleries every once in a while, but I fell in love with photography when I was in the Army."

"You're an artist?" Becca asked Steve curiously. She took a look at Bucky, "He any good?"

"Okay, Becks, two things here," Bucky answered her with a chuckle. "One, you never ask that question when the artist is present, and two, why are you asking me?"

"I'm assuming you've seen his art before," she answered her brother. "Hell, Buck, the two of you grew up together."

"We were mostly grown by the time we met," Steve interjected. "But if I can answer the first thing, I'm okay. Not bad, I guess, but not great."

"You always were your own worst critic," Bucky commented as he swallowed a bite of his salad. Then he turned to his sister, "I haven't seen his art in a very long time, Becca. But when we were younger, it was pretty damn incredible."

"I hope it's okay I don't have a beer to offer you," Bucky said later on, after a stretch of silence. "I know some people prefer it, but I can't have it in the house."

Steve watched him, curiosity written all over his face.

For some reason, whenever anybody gave him the serious gaze like Steve was doing right now, Bucky always pushed it off, but it was Steve that was doing it right now, and there seemed to be a totally different set of rules for him.

"We don't keep alcohol in the house," Becca offered. Bucky was pretty sure she only said that because she thought her brother needed saving, and Bucky could've kissed her for her intuition. "Too many bad associations to it."

Steve just nodded.

At eight o'clock, Becca's phone chirped -- no, really, it chirped, like a bird, and that's when Bucky realized it was Wade's special text tone, although Bucky had no idea why she set that one specifically as his -- and she looked at her brother.

"Wade wants to get together. It okay if I go?"

Bucky nodded, "This time be home by curfew. Please?"

Becca nodded, grabbing the keys to her car. She saluted her brother as she went out the front door.

"She stay out a lot?" Steve questioned curiously. Bucky shrugged.

"Sometimes she ignores curfew. I mean, I get it, sixteen-year-old, but when she's gone half the night, I worry. I always stay up until she gets back, and I have to open the gym at eight."

"It really _is_ good to see you again, Buck," Steve said softly. "I really did think I'd lost you for good."

"Yeah, I knew Tasha had something up her sleeve -- she pretty much forced me to go to that party. I mean, of course, she wouldn't really _force_ me to do anything I was really opposed to, but she was pushing awfully damn hard."

"She cares about you, Buck. You, Nat, and Clint have always been like family."

"It's because we don't have separate families. Clint went through foster care and then the circus, and Tasha's parents are dead. We just kind of gravitate towards one another."

"But you have Becca," Steve replied. "She seems to love you an awful lot."

"She saved me, you know." Bucky's voice was uncharacteristically soft, something that he didn't do very often. "Any time I thought about ending it for good way back when, she was the thought that brought me back. I couldn't leave my baby sister alone in the world, not with everything I'd seen."

"You're doing really well for yourself," Steve said conversationally. "For what it's worth, you should be really proud of yourself."

Bucky just shrugged.

"Still shit at taking compliments, I see," Steve commented with a laugh and, once again, Bucky shrugged. "Are you seeing a therapist these days?"

The question was so out of left field that Bucky hadn't expected it, even though he should have. Even when they were just teenagers at St. Vincent's, Steve had always been concerned with Bucky's mental health. "I've got Tasha."

Bucky had known as soon as the words left his mouth that Steve wasn't going to be happy with his answer, and that was confirmed by the frown that formed on his lips. "I don't want to get off on the wrong foot here, Buck, but you need more than that," Steve said hesitantly, and Bucky knew that Steve was worried about him withdrawing, so he was trying to state his concern carefully. "You need to talk about your feelings with someone or else you're going to implode. You can't keep things bottled up."

"I've got Tasha," Bucky repeated. "She's always been there for me whenever I've needed her. But, if you must know, she hooked me up with a colleague of hers a couple of years ago, right after my accident. She didn't feel right about taking my case because of us being friends, so after she saw me a couple of times, she referred me to someone else."

"But you said she found your sister."

Bucky nodded, "She did. She didn't have to be my psychologist in order to find Becca for me. She thought that finding her would help my rehabilitation -- which it did. It helped a hell of a lot."

"She hadn't been adopted? That was your greatest fear, I remember that."

Bucky shook his head, "No. She had a bitch of a caseworker. Becca was four when she went into the system, and I was fourteen. I had a hell of a time, and people don't generally adopt teenagers, so that explains why I was never adopted. But Becca -- her bitch caseworker said that she had too many problems and would just be a horrible kid, so the time her foster family tried to adopt her, she wouldn't let them. Put a stop to it before it even got started."

"That's horrible," Steve gasped. "She got away with it?"

Bucky nodded, "Yeah. It fucked Becca up pretty badly, too. Her caseworker pretty much told her that our parents didn't want her, so what made her think anybody else would."

Steve's eyes widened.

"Becca didn't go through as much as I did," Bucky continued, "but she did go through a few bad things. She was only with one family the entire time she was in the system, and when I started digging around trying to find her, I met them. They're great people. Really wonderful, in fact. They could tell Becca and I needed each other, so when I filed for guardianship of her, they told the judge that I should get her."

"They sound amazing."

"They really are. Becca still talks to them. Every once in a while, Charles and Erik come over for dinner, or we go over there. Becca's even still super-close with the twins. You can tell they really love her."

Steve nodded.

"What about you, Rogers?" Bucky asked, clearly tired of dominating the conversation. "What happened to the Army?"

Steve chuckled. "I completed two tours in the Army, stationed in Afghanistan. Was really good at it, too. For a while, I thought it was what I was meant to do. But then I made Captain, and I just...I dunno, it was starting to be just a job and something I didn't want to do anymore. So I left. But I will _never_ regret my time serving."

"You shouldn't," Bucky replied honestly. "Thank you for your service, by the way. I think it's great that you did that."

"I thought it'd make me feel closer to my dad, you know," Steve commented. "He died before I was born, you know, so I didn't know him, although I'd seen pictures of him while I was growing up. My mom told me stories. I wanted to make him proud." He sighed and then continued, "Is that weird? Never knowing the man, but still wanting to live so he'd be proud of me?"

"I don't think so," Bucky answered as he made a face. "I mean, look at it this way -- my parents were complete douchebags, but I always wanted to live my life so that they would be proud of me. I think, when it's your parents, things can get a little fucked up."

Steve nodded.

"After the Army, I did a few different things. Odd jobs and whatnot. I met Sam at the VA, where I still volunteer from time to time, and Peggy and I never lost touch."

"You and Peggy Carter," Bucky chuckled. "The two of you were thick as thieves, back in the day. I'm surprised you two never got together."

"We dated for a while," Steve admitted, "but there wasn't that spark, you know? She's really terrific and I love her a lot, but it's not a romantic love. Honestly, I think it's more of a familial kind of love."

"I get it," Bucky answered him. And he did. "Tasha and I dated for a while after I first got out of the system, but we didn't have that spark, either. And then, after we decided to just be friends, I figured it out. She's like my sister. I thought I loved her romantically, but really, she's just family."

"Exactly," Steve agreed. "It was like that. Besides, about a year or so after Peggy and I called it quits, she met Angie. Great girl. They have a four-year-old daughter."

"Adoption?" Bucky asked, out of curiosity.

Steve shook his head. "They asked me to be a donor and I agreed, so biologically, Amelia is my daughter. But she has two moms who love her very much. I was happy to do it."

"I bet she's beautiful," Bucky mused absentmindedly. "I mean, Peggy's gorgeous, and you're not too bad to look at, either."

"I'll take that compliment," Steve laughed. "So, thanks."

A little after ten o'clock, Steve looked at Bucky. "What's Becca's curfew?"

"Eleven."

"I was gonna hang out until she got back, but it's after ten, and I have a job to do tomorrow before I have to volunteer at the VA. I promised Sam I'd be there." He let out a yawn and then said, "I should probably go."

Bucky nodded. "I don't expect you to stay," he replied honestly. "But don't be a stranger, okay?"

"Absolutely not," Steve grinned. He smiled at Bucky before saying, "I'll definitely text you later. Mia's birthday is next weekend, and we're having a big party over at Peggy and Angie's. You can come with me if you want."

"I'll have to check my schedule. Send me a text with the information, like the time and date and stuff, and I'll let you know if I can make it."

"Great," Steve said excitedly. "I'll talk to you later, Buck."

"Yeah, Steve. See you."

After Steve left, Bucky waited up for another half an hour, and at ten forty-five, Becca came through the front door. She looked at her brother, "What are you doing up?"

"Waiting for you, duh," he responded. "You know I always do."

"Yeah, I know that," she agreed, "but you really don't have to."

"I worry about you," Bucky said honestly. "I really do, you know. I need to make sure you're okay."

"I'm fine, Buck, see?" she asked, twirling around in a circle. "No bruises or anything. Not even a single scratch."

Bucky smiled.

"I'm gonna head to bed," Becca continued, heading for the stairs, "and so should you. Get some sleep, Buck."

"You say that like you know my sleeping habits, Becks."

She turned to look him over. "Thin walls, big brother. Sometimes you wake me up."

The color drained from his face, "Becca, I'm sor --"

"Don't, Buck," she interrupted sternly as she came closer. She stood in front of Bucky and put her arms around her brother. "Those nightmares, the night terrors, the flashback-y dreams -- they're _not_ your fault. You have absolutely _nothing_ to apologize for, do you hear me? The hell you went through, that was _not_ your fault."

Silently, Bucky nodded.

She broke apart from her brother and then said, softly but firmly, "Say it back to me, Buck. I need to know that you believe it."

Bucky licked his lips. "It's not my fault." It was soft and tentative, and there was a look in his eyes that showed he didn't fully believe it, but it apparently worked for her.

Becca nodded, "Good. One of these days, Buck, you'll start believing it."

She started walking towards the stairs again. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Alright, Becca. 'Night. Love you."

"Love you, too, dork."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I'm really sorry about the delay once again. I've been sick and busy. But here's the chapter. I hope you guys like it.

"Hey, we hosting a tournament coming up?" Bucky asked Dugan the next day. Bucky had opened the gym at eight, and Dugan had come in at nine-thirty, saying he was waiting on a client coming in at ten.

Dugan nodded, "Yeah. I hadn't talked to you about it yet, though."

"Obviously not, since I had no clue," Bucky replied, watching Dugan carefully. "When is it?"

"In two weeks. Two weeks from Saturday night."

Since Dugan had been the son of a pretty well-known trainer, he knew a lot of managers and important people in the boxing world. There were people looking for new talent all the time, and most of them came to him when they wanted to see what they were working with. "Why do you ask?"

"I've noticed more people coming in lately," Bucky acknowledged.

"I'm surprised Rogers hasn't shown up yet," Dugan commented, and Bucky gave him a sideways glance. "Yeah, Barnes," Dugan continued, answering Bucky's unasked question, "I know all about your activities these days. I met Sam Wilson, and Nat told me they're friends. I heard you two found each other again."

Bucky rolled his eyes, "Yeah, we met at a party Sam's mom was hosting. Tasha practically twisted my arm to get me there, and then I found out why."

"You and Steve were always a good fit, Buck," Dugan said, watching Bucky closely. "Even when you two were just kids. When you were seventeen and training for your first official tournament, Steve would follow you, and Dad would talk about how you seemed to just get one another."

"It wasn't hard," Bucky replied honestly. "As a rule, people are hard. I don't do people very well; you, out of everyone else, already know that. I don't like people -- they're hard to understand and can be a bit complicated. But Steve -- I didn't have to try to understand him. He made sense in a way that nobody else ever did."

"I'm sure you've met one or two other people you understand, other than Steve," Dugan said, watching Bucky's eyes with his own. "I like to think we connected, too, way back then."

"And we did," Bucky agreed. "You, and Tasha, and Clint."

"So, whether or not you agree that you connect with people, Buck, you've got a support system of your own."

"Steve's different, though. Always has been. There's just something about him..."

"Yeah, I know that," Dugan nodded, getting to his feet. "Even my old man knew about your crush."

"Crush?" Bucky asked, laughing awkwardly. "I didn't have a crush."

Dugan's look was unimpressed.

"Okay, so maybe I _did_ have a crush on him, back in the day," Bucky admitted, because he knew that there was no use in lying about it if Dugan already knew. "Steve was everything to me. It started out as protect the idiot punk who was going to get himself killed one of these days, and as Steve and I spent more time together, it just kinda grew. I needed him back then."

"I understand that, Buck," Dugan answered. "You were alone. Everybody needs somebody. You didn't know where your sister was or if you'd ever see her again. Even back then, I knew you and Steve needed one another. His fighting didn't stop once you found each other, though, did it?" Dugan smirked.

Bucky laughed, "Nope. It doesn't matter who that little punk knows, he's always got some battle to fight."

Dugan just laughed, "Amen to that."

The rest of Bucky's week was pretty hectic, to say the least. It turned out that a big agency was working with Commandos Gymnasium to recruit some fighters, some _fresh blood_ , as Dugan put it when he was telling Bucky about it, and there were several fighters in the gym that week. If Bucky had known about the upcoming tournament earlier, he would've had more time to prepare, but it started to make sense why he had so many appointments coming up in the next couple of weeks.

When he talked to Becca when he made it home at eight-thirty on Thursday night, she seemed to understand. Bucky got the busiest whenever there was a tournament coming up, and Becca was usually so understanding about it. His appointments were lined up all day and he was working twice as hard as usual.

When Bucky texted Steve and told him that he was very sorry, but he couldn't make it to the birthday party because of the upcoming tournament, Steve said he understood. Said he knew Bucky would be pretty busy, and he could meet Amelia at a different time.

That set of texts led to more talking between Steve and Bucky. They started talking several times throughout the day, whenever Bucky had a few moments to send a text, and talked about getting together.

Bucky was surprised on Saturday night when he walked through the front door of the apartment at eight-thirty and saw Steve sitting on the couch next to Becca. They both had a can of Pepsi in their hand and seemed to be chatting animatedly.

"Hey, Buck!" Becca exclaimed as she noticed her brother come through the doorway. "How'd everything go?"

"Fine, I guess," he answered her, shrugging. "You hold that thought, though; I need to jump in the shower."

Steve and Becca both nodded.

Once Bucky was clean and dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a clean shirt, he went down to join his sister and friend. He grabbed a bottle of water out of the refrigerator before sitting down between Becca and Steve. 

"You've been busy," Steve commented. "Sam said it's been pretty hectic."

Bucky nodded, taking a swig of his water. "Yeah, it definitely has," he agreed. "It always gets like this around tournament time, though. Dugan just didn't let me know in a reasonable amount of time like he usually does. I hadn't even heard about it until Sam came in last weekend."

"How's he doing?" Steve asked curiously. "He any good?"

"You don't know?" Bucky was surprised. "I mean, you and Sam seem to be pretty close."

"And we are. But I've been busy with certain commissions, and we haven't had a lot of time to just hang out these past few weeks. Me being at Darlene's party was planned way ahead of time because she wanted some help, so that's the reason I was even there. Well, that and Nat said she had a surprise for me."

Bucky smiled.

"Sam's pretty good," Bucky said, answering Steve's previous question. "Wouldn't surprise me in the least if he got far in the tournament; he could probably even win it. Sam's got a tremendously good work ethic and is always training. He's in the gym at least four times a week, working with either me or one of the guys."

"Nat's the one who recommended your gym in the first place," Steve commented. "When Sam talked about wanting to join in on a tournament, she told him you were the best trainer in the city."

"An exaggeration," Bucky scoffed. That's when he noticed the look he was getting from his sister.

"You're complete shit at taking compliments, Buck," she said, her eyes watching him. "You've always been like that. You really need to learn how to accept them."

Bucky just shrugged.

Becca rolled her eyes and then looked at Steve. "He _is_ the best trainer in the city," she said firmly, "although I may be a little biased. But I know Clint, and Dugan, and Morita, and everyone else down at Commandos, and I still think Buck's the best at what he does. He was made to train fighters."

"I loved fighting," Bucky said seriously. "It's what I was made for. When I was in the ring, I didn't have to think about anything else; I just had to think about my next move. It was freeing."

"And then you lost the ability?" Steve asked. "How did you manage?"

"The accident took a lot from me," Bucky answered softly. He hadn't been able to talk about the accident and things that happened afterward with a lot of people, but somehow, this was Steve, and Bucky trusted him. He trusted him just as much as he did when he was just a sixteen-year-old boy who'd lost his family. During their days at St. Vincent's, Bucky and Steve had learned how to rely on one another.

Even though so much had happened since they were teenagers, and they had moved on in life, a lot of things remained the same. They hadn't seen each other for eight years, but yet, Bucky trusted Steve now just as much as he always did.

"The accident took a lot of things from me," Bucky repeated. "But it also gave me something in return." He leaned over and gave his sister a kiss on her temple. "I was twenty-three when the accident happened, and as soon as I was deemed healthy enough, that's when I filed for guardianship. I don't think that, if I were still fighting, I would have tried as hard to get guardianship of my sister as I did. I would've still found her, I'm sure, since I'd been looking for her since I got out of the system, but when the accident happened, I felt like I lost everything I had, and getting Becca back -- well, that was something I needed."

"Jeez, Buck, that was really sappy," Becca said, giving her brother a look.

"Bite me, Becca," he answered, rolling his eyes. Steve just laughed.

After Becca went to bed that night, Steve stuck around for a little while. They spent the night just chatting with one another until Steve noticed the time.

"It's after eleven," he stated softly. "This has been a lot of fun, Buck. We should hang out more."

"I'll be busy all this week," Bucky replied. "After the tournament on Saturday, things'll mellow out again, but until then it's gonna be crazy."

"We should get together next week, then," Steve suggested. Bucky nodded.

"You know," Bucky started, after a brief moment of silence, "you ever want to come over, or hang out with Becca, feel free. She likes you."

"She's a great kid," Steve nodded. "I mean, we've talked a little bit and she seems pretty awesome."

"Yeah, she's great."

"Well, I'll text you later, Buck," Steve said, standing up. He looked at Bucky. "Then we can make plans."

"Sounds good, Steve. I'll see you later."

Steve nodded. "Bye, Buck," he said, and then he was gone.

***

Bucky loved tournaments. He lived for them. When he was competing, he loved training -- it gave him a goal to try and hit, and he loved that -- but tournaments gave Bucky a high like nothing else ever did. And it didn't matter if he won the tournament or not -- yeah, he _preferred_ to win, but didn't everybody? But even when Bucky lost a fight, he still lived for the tournaments. It gave him a high like nothing else ever had, and when he was in the ring, he didn't have to think about anything else, other than his moves.

It was freeing.

When there was a tournament coming up, each of the employees put up their one favorite fighter they were training and that they thought could make it. For Bucky, this tournament was all about Sam Wilson.

"You know I'd put you up, Tasha, if you ever decided to get in on one of these," Bucky was telling her as they left the gym together to grab lunch. The tournament started at seven and it was almost three. Bucky _originally_ wasn't going to take time out for lunch, but then Natasha burst into his office at two-thirty and demanded to know when he'd eaten last.

"You've been here since six, James," Natasha said to him like he didn't already know that. He had come in extra early to get everything ready for people who were coming in to train. Later on, in the day, Dugan was going to meet and schmooze with a bunch of agents and sponsors, and Bucky always left that to him, even though he himself _had_ been a prized fighter.

They went to a small diner that Natasha liked to frequent and, while waiting for their food, Bucky looked at her.

"Thank you," he said softly. "I mean it. Because of you, I found Steve again and we've renewed our friendship."

Natasha's gaze softened as she nodded. "I knew how much it would mean to you," she answered softly. "You needed Steve just as much as you needed Becca."

Bucky nodded. "Thank you, though, Tasha. I want you to know that I appreciate everything you've ever done for me. I don't think I'd be able to pay you back for everything that you've ever done for me."

"You don't have to thank me, James," Natasha replied, the same soft tone in her voice. "That's what friends do."

***

Bucky wasn't sure that anything had surprised him more than when Steve showed up at the tournament that night. Bucky had been in the middle of talking to Sam when he saw Steve walk through the front doors.

When Steve came up to them, he nodded to both Bucky and Sam. "Hey guys," he greeted them with a grin.

"What are you doing here?" Bucky asked, sounding surprised. Hell, he _was_ surprised.

"Do you not want me to be here?" Steve looked a little hurt at that thought, and Bucky wasn't going to let him think that, so he shook his head.

"That's not it," he answered, noting the way Sam was looking between the two of them. "I was surprised to see you here."

"Well, I came to support Sam, of course," Steve smiled. And _God_ , Bucky was still struck almost speechless with that smile of his. When they were younger, when Steve smiled, Bucky could've sworn the whole room lit up. Maybe that was because of the not-so-small crush he'd had on the guy growing up, he wasn't sure, but Bucky knew that he really loved it when Steve smiled.

"I'm glad you're here, dude," Sam said, nodding towards Steve. "Now you can see what an awesome trainer Bucky is."

Bucky felt the blush color his cheeks. "I'm not that good. When you do well in this tournament, it just means that you trained hard -- and you did. I'm proud of you, Sam."

Sam grinned, and it seemed almost like Bucky's approval meant everything to him. "Thanks, man."

The last time Steve had been to a boxing match was several years ago. Bucky had participated in his first official tournament when he was seventeen and was signed not too long afterwards. It was only two years later, when Steve was eighteen, that he had enlisted in the Army and was sent to Afghanistan.

The tournament started slowly. Sam had told Steve which round he was going to be premiered in, and also told him he didn't have to show up until Sam was supposed to go into the ring, but Steve wanted to be there.

He wasn't going to admit it to _anyone_ , but even though he went there to support his friend, he actually wanted to see Bucky in action. He knew that Bucky denied it every single time he brought it up, but Steve had heard it from several people around town -- not just Becca and Natasha -- that Bucky was _the_ best trainer in the entire city. He wanted to see how Bucky looked when his client was in the ring.

When the sponsors were looking for new talent, the matches went in a rather peculiar way, Steve noticed. The usual number of rounds in a boxing match was three, but this was not just an average match. These people weren't professionals -- that is, they didn't do this for a living, and they didn't get paid for it. They were all amateurs, and each and every one of the guys at the gym picked their _champion_ , as Bucky had categorized it when he explained the system to Steve, and they went up against each other.

There were six guys who worked at Commandos. Bucky and Dum Dum owned the place, and they had four employees. So, every guy picked their own fighter and the one that came out on top won.

Steve thought that, with each employee only being able to pick just one fighter, the choice would be an extremely difficult one to make. He wondered how hard it was for Bucky, or any of the other guys, to figure out which one they wanted to stand behind.

So, the match lasted for hours, and, as he sat and watched, he realized that he had totally forgotten how involved the audience got during matches, but he loved every second of it. They had all looked like pretty strong people, people who could actually win it, and Steve wasn't sure if he could pinpoint the one who would be the winner.

 _Thank God there's a fifteen-minute intermission between each fight_ , Steve thought as he watched Sam win the first fight pretty easily. He was fighting a guy named Johnny Storm -- Steve _kind of_ knew who he was, as Johnny had a reputation -- but the match was over almost as soon as it began.

Steve went and got a drink just as the second match started.

Even though there were a total of seven rounds altogether, and he was probably sitting there for several hours, the time just flew by. Finally, the last round started, and that's when Steve got a little worried for his friend.

Sam was going up against James Rhodes. Steve actually _did_ know who he was -- Steve had known Tony Stark for quite a few years now, and it was really hard to know Tony Stark and _not_ know Colonel James Rhodes. Rhodey and Tony were practically joined at the hip.

He knew that Sam had proven himself with everyone else he'd gone up against that night, but he wasn't sure if Sam would make it.

In the end, Sam prevailed. It was a very close match, but Sam came out on top. When Sam was declared the winner of the whole tournament, Steve noticed Bucky smiling brightly, like he was excited for his fighter. Steve had a feeling that there was more than Sam winning the tournament to Bucky's smile, and Steve idly wondered what exactly it was, but he decided not to question it.

It was almost eleven when the tournament broke up, and Sam was approached by a manager, so Steve decided to hang back. He was surprised when Bucky came up to him.

"You ever been to any tournaments, other than mine, back in the day?" Bucky asked him quietly.

"Not any official ones," Steve answered, shaking his head. "There was a boxing league in the Army, you know, but other than that, no, I haven't been to a real boxing match in a long fucking time."

"Sam did well, don't you think?" Bucky asked him. "He was really good in the ring."

Steve nodded, "Yeah, he was." He crinkled his brow, "Why aren't you over there with him? You're part of the reason he did so well."

"He's talking to a manager. Don't worry; Thor is the best manager I know. I had him near the end of my career." His gaze went over to where Steve saw the big blond man talking to Sam. Then he looked back at Steve, "If it were his brother, on the other hand, then I'd worry."

"Something wrong with his brother?" Steve questioned, and Bucky could tell he had piqued his friend's curiosity.

"Not really," Bucky answered him with a shrug. "He's just trouble. Loki is a bit of a mischievous son of a bitch, and he's pretty unpredictable. You never know what he's going to do next. But Thor's good at what he does. He was a fighter, too, back in the day, and he's been managing for at least ten years."

Steve nodded.

"So, I was thinking," Bucky said after a few silent moments had passed. "I'm always starving after a tournament, and there's this 24-hour diner next door. They serve really great food, so you wanna get a bite to eat? With me?"

"You know what, Buck?" Steve asked, smiling brightly. "I'd love to."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are a couple of warnings here. Warnings of nightmares and some violent behavior. It's not super-graphic though, but wanted to warn just in case it triggers somebody. 
> 
> I will explain in the end notes, not to spoil.
> 
> Also, Peggy & Angie's daughter debuts in this chapter, and I know absolutely NOTHING about kids. I don't have any and I don't really have any friends that I see often that have any, either. I want to thank [ArchOfImagine](http://archiveofourown.org/users/archofimagine) for all the help she's given me. I'm so grateful, doll!

The diner next door was actually a place that Steve and Bucky had been to before, back when they were teenagers and needed to get out. St. Vincent's had been a unique residential facility in the fact that they made the kids do chores and they handed out allowance, so as long as they behaved and did their chores, they always had at least a little money.

They had just sat down when Steve commented, "This place. I can't believe it's still around."

Bucky grinned. "Yeah," he answered. "When I signed on with Dugan, I was ecstatic to see it here. So you remember it?"

"Of course I do," Steve grinned. "We spent enough time here together."

After ordering, Steve looked at Bucky, "Sam did well, huh?"

Bucky grinned, "He really did. I'm proud of him."

"You said that. Wasn't sure if you really meant it."

"Of course I did," Bucky frowned, looking hurt. "Why would I say it if I didn't mean it?"

Steve shrugged, "I dunno. It's just you train _a lot_ of people."

Bucky nodded, "Yeah, and when they excel, I'm proud of all of them."

Steve also nodded.

While they ate their dinners, the conversation flowed really well. This was the fourth time Bucky had hung out with Steve, and they never ran out of things to talk about. Then the subject of Amelia came up.

"Peg, Ang, and I have a standing Sunday morning brunch date," Steve mentioned casually. "I was wondering if you'd want to go with me tomorrow morning?"

"To meet their daughter?"

"Not just that," Steve answered slowly, watching Bucky closely. "I mean, yeah, I want you to meet Amelia, but Peg and I are still pretty tight. I know she'd like to see you again."

"I was a completely different person back when I knew her, Steve," Bucky replied softly. "Ever since I became an adult, since the accident, since taking care of Becca -- I'm not who I used to be."

"I know that," Steve agreed. "But if you think that either Peggy or I are the same people we were back in high school, you've got another thing coming. Everybody changes with time -- doesn't matter _who_ you are."

Bucky thought about it. Back in high school, Steve, Bucky, and Peggy Carter were pretty tight with one another -- they really enjoyed hanging out together. And even though that was when he was diagnosed with his PTSD and social anxiety, neither Peggy nor Steve ever looked at him like he was damaged. Other kids, and even some adults, regarded Bucky like he was broken. Steve and Peggy never did that.

"I don't know her wife," was what Bucky finally settled on. "Do you think she's gonna like me?"

"Ang isn't gonna be there tomorrow," Steve replied. "She's in London right now for some kind of workshop." At Bucky's confused look, Steve elaborated, "Angie's an actress. Mostly works Broadway and theater kind of things."

"You're telling me that Peggy's wife went to London, and Peggy didn't go with her?" Bucky asked, wide-eyed. Steve could see the smirk on Bucky's lips when he continued, "When she spent three-quarters of our high school career complaining about missing England so damn bad?"

Steve chuckled, "Peg's got a job and Mia. She couldn't get away." He watched Bucky for a moment before adding, "And I heard her bitch about that a couple of times, believe me."

Bucky laughed.

"So it'll be Peg, you, and me tomorrow," Steve said, getting back to the original subject. "You don't have to worry about Angie -- at least, not yet."

"Plus Amelia."

Steve nodded, "Yeah, plus Amelia." He shot Bucky a look before saying, "Wait, are you scared of a _kid_?"

"I don't spend much time around them, Steve," Bucky replied. "I mean, Becca's sixteen. I wasn't around her when I was younger."

"Yeah, but Mia's only five. Are you telling me that you never spent time with Matt or Craig?" Steve asked, referring to two five-year-old boys that they'd been in residential with. Steve knew damn well that Bucky had spent several hours at a time around them both. They had both _adored_ Bucky.

Not only had Matt and Craig adored Bucky, but he was also so good with them. He treated them like they were his own family and spent a lot of time playing games with them and talking to them. Whenever the boys needed to be soothed or calmed down, they always went to Bucky.

Bucky sighed. Finally, deciding to take a chance, he nodded. "Alright," he said, keeping Steve's gaze. "I'll go. Can you give me directions to wherever the brunch is going to be held?"

"No need," Steve answered, giving Bucky a satisfied look. Bucky recognized that look; it was the look that Steve used to wear whenever he got his way. "I'll come pick you up. It'll be at Peg's house, so we can ride over there together."

"Alright," Bucky agreed. "What time?"

"The brunch is at one, so how about eleven?" Steve asked. "That sound okay?"

A small smile covered Bucky's lips, "Yeah, Steve. Sounds perfect."

***

_He was running. It was the middle of the night, and he was running from a monster. Not a_ literal _monster, not really -- in reality, it was his older foster brother, but as far as Bucky was concerned, Levi Rumlow_ was _a monster._

_Bucky was running faster, trying to get out of there. He knew that when his caseworker had placed him in a house that was surrounded by woods, it was a recipe for disaster. Bucky hadn't liked the woods to begin with, but this was just ridiculous._

_They had beaten him earlier in the night. He had welts across his back, and even though the blood had been cleaned up and his wounds tended to, he still felt the leather across his skin. It'd be better once a few hours went by -- not totally_ okay _, but_ better _\-- but he wasn't going to just wait around for them to beat him again._

 _"Jaime!" came the voice, almost tauntingly, and Bucky wasn't sure what direction it was coming from. He just knew the voice was coming from_ somewhere _, and he needed to get as far away from it as he possibly could._

_The Rumlow family had taken to calling him Jaime, which he absolutely hated, and chastised him for liking his nickname, his preferred name._

_It wasn't that he hated the name. It had been an okay name before the Rumlows had gotten ahold of it, and even after he left their household, some people still used it, but there were times that he just couldn't bear to hear it._

_Bucky briefly glanced around him, trying to see if he could see Levi behind him, but he wasn't there. However, in his efforts to try and figure out where his foster brother was, Bucky didn't see the tree root that was poking out of the ground, and the toe of his boot had caught it. Once his foot caught the root, he was down._

_Bucky heard Levi's footfalls behind him and scrambled to get back up, but Levi had caught up with him. He grabbed Bucky's left arm, forcing him to his feet, and then twisted it up and behind his back until they both heard the sickening_ crack _._

_"Look what you did," the sneer was evident in Levi's voice as he leaned down to snarl in Bucky's ear. "You made me chase you, and you made me break your arm."_

_"I didn't_ make _you do anything, asshole," Bucky grit out, even though he knew that he'd be punished for that, trying to ignore the immense pain he was in. "You did that of your own fucking free will."_

_"Shame on you, Jaime," Levi tsked disapprovingly. "You know you shouldn't use language like that."_

_Bucky was trying really hard to keep the pain inside; he wasn't going to scream or cry -- he refused to give Levi the satisfaction of seeing him flinch or cower; he wouldn't even let tears come to his eyes when Levi hauled off and slapped Bucky across the face._

_"We're gonna keep an eye on you, Jaime," Levi said with a dark look on his face. "With a broken arm -- well, they're going to want to know where you are, all the time."_

Bucky bolted upright in bed. Was the scream he just heard from himself _now_ , or was it the _dream_?

He got his answer when his sister came barreling through the door. She gave Bucky a considerable look.

"Buck, you okay?" she asked him hesitantly. "I mean, really okay?"

He had tears in his eyes. Goddamn it, he was going to cry. "I'm fine, Becks," he answered her, but he couldn't rid his voice of the wobbliness it had. Becca came closer, taking a seat on the corner of the queen-sized bed in his room, watching him closely.

"Can I touch you?" she asked him carefully.

She knew to ask him now, because the first time he'd had a really bad nightmare, she'd touched him without him giving her permission, and he'd had a hand around her throat before she even realized what was happening. Touching him after a nightmare was a bad thing.

He took a couple of deep breaths, running his hand through his hair and closing his eyes. The tears were coming, he couldn't stop them -- he was crying, and Becca was going to witness it, and --

"Bucky?" she asked again. "Can I touch you?"

He nodded silently.

The only light in the room was the moonlight coming through the sliding glass door of the master bedroom, and Becca climbed into bed beside her brother. She placed a hand on his shoulder -- his _left_ shoulder, which explained why he couldn't really feel it, and didn't notice it was there until he looked down -- and asked, "Are you gonna be okay?"

Bucky nodded. "I'm okay, Becks," he said. "I'm always okay."

"I know that you are, big brother," she agreed, tenderness filling her voice, urging him to lie down. He did, and she gathered him up in her arms, which was pretty hilarious, considering he had at least one hundred pounds on her. "You're strong. You always have been."

His tears were starting to slow down, and Becca continued, "Do you wanna talk about it?"

He shook his head, "No, I really don't."

Becca nodded. "Okay. I'm gonna drop this, and I'm gonna pick something else up."

"What's that?"

"I want you to go back to seeing Dr. Banner," his sister insisted. "You stopped therapy for a while, don't think I didn't notice. But these nightmares are happening more and more frequently, and you're hurting because of it."

"I can do fine by myself, Becca."

"You've been taking care of yourself for a long time, Buck," Becca started. Bucky adjusted himself so he could look his sister in the eyes. "You've been taking care of yourself for a really long time, and I know you're pretty great at it. But just because you _can_ take care of yourself doesn't mean you _have to_. Let people help you, Buck. Tasha, and Clint, and me -- let us in. We can help you."

He took a deep breath before asking, "Will you stay with me, Becks? I don't think I should be by myself right now."

Her gaze softened, because, even though she'd known he'd needed it before now, he'd never actually _asked_ before. Then, nodding, she said, "Of course, big brother. You know I'd do anything for you."

***

Bucky's alarm went off at nine AM. After turning it off, he took a deep breath and ran a hand over his face, wiping the sleep out of his eyes.

Looking over, he saw his sister asleep and took a brief moment to just watch her. He remembered what happened last night, with his nightmare, although he wasn't sure what time it had been at, and he remembered Becca coming to his rescue. Most of the time, he didn't feel like he deserved it, but his sister was always there for him whenever he needed it.

Getting up from the bed, making sure he didn't upset Becca, he stood at the end of it and noticed how peaceful she looked. She looked incredibly peaceful, and Bucky really wished she hadn't seen so much wrong in her life -- even if she hadn't been through as much as Bucky had, she'd still seen it -- but she seemed to be keeping it all together.

He grabbed a quick shower and wasn't sure how formal the situation was, but he pulled on a pair of black jeans and an olive-green long-sleeved shirt. Becca once teased him about how he seemed to have a long-sleeved shirt in every color, but ever since the accident, the only time Bucky wore a t-shirt or tank top was at home. He couldn't show that kind of vulnerability -- especially not in public.

At a quarter to eleven, he got a text from Steve saying that he was downstairs, was Bucky ready, and could he please grab his motorcycle helmet? That's when Bucky grabbed his leather jacket and helmet and woke Becca up.

"Becks?" he asked her softly, shaking her shoulder gently. "Hey, Becks, wake up."

She blinked up at him, reaching to wipe her eyes. "Hey, Buck."

"I'm going out for a while, to have brunch with a couple old friends."

She nodded, "You don't have to wake me up every time you go out, you know."

"I know, but you know why I woke you up."

The reason Bucky woke Becca up was because Becca had severe separation anxiety. She had lived a good portion of her life without Bucky, so if she woke up and there was no note and Bucky was gone and it wasn't part of his regular daytime routine, she panicked. After the first couple of times it happened, Bucky made sure he always told her when he was stepping out.

Becca just nodded.

"I don't know how long I'll be gone. If you need me, just call or text me, okay?"

Again, Becca nodded.

When Bucky met Steve downstairs, Steve had a big smile on his face. "Nice to see you, Buck."

Bucky nodded, "Yeah, you too. Thanks for inviting me."

With that, they were on their way.

It took about forty-five minutes, but then they pulled up to a really nice house. It was quite large, which told Bucky that Peggy and her wife must be doing really well.

"Uncle Steve!" The motorcycle had just stopped and they both had just taken off their helmets when a little girl with a mop of golden curls came running out. She was wearing a brightly-colored dress with a cardigan over the top of it and a pair of leggings on her legs, but was also barefoot.

"Amelia Rose, what are you doing out here without any shoes on?" Steve scolded the little girl lightly. "Your momma wouldn't like that."

Amelia just giggled.

Picking the little girl up, Steve looked at Bucky, "C'mon, follow me. This way."

Once inside, Bucky took a look around. The living room was large and had ivory-colored walls. Peggy was sitting on the couch, the radio on a classical music station and she looked prim and proper, wearing a black pencil skirt and what looked to be a green satin blouse.

"James!" she exclaimed once Bucky went through the door. Bucky could tell that she hadn't been expecting him. "What are you doing here?"

Bucky crinkled his brow in confusion, "Steve invited me. He didn't tell you?"

"No, he did not! Steven!" she scolded. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Wanted it to be a surprise," he said, grinning. He sat Amelia down on the floor and then looked at her. "Mia, this is my friend, Bucky. Buck, this is Amelia."

Bucky grinned at the little girl before crouching down to look at her. Amelia was half-hidden behind Steve's leg, but Bucky stuck his hand out anyway. "It's really nice to meet you, Mia. I've known your momma and your Uncle Steve for a really long time."

Shyly, Amelia tilted her head downwards and rubbed her forehead against the back of Steve's denim-covered knee.

"Don't tell me you're going to play shy _now_ , darling," Peggy laughed, watching her daughter closely. Then she looked up at Bucky, "It's really good to see you again, Jaime."

Bucky flinched and it wasn't until he noticed the worried look on both Peggy and Steve's faces that Bucky realized they had noticed. "Sorry," Peggy apologized, watching him intently. "Should I not have said that?"

He'd totally forgotten that Peggy used to alternate between calling him James and Jaime. Back then, whenever he'd had a nightmare about his first foster family, he'd let her know that the name Jaime was off-limits.

"Please don't call me that right now," Bucky requested softly. "It's either Bucky or James."

Her face softened. "Okay, James. I'm sorry," Peggy apologized again.

"It's okay, Peg, really," Bucky insisted. "You had no way of knowing."

She nodded.

"I've got brunch ready," she smiled, looking at both Bucky and Steve. "Are the two of you hungry?"

"Starving," Steve replied. Peggy took her daughter's hand and led her into the dining room, Amelia chatting animatedly with her mother the whole way. That's when Steve took Bucky aside.

"You okay?" he asked him, concern showing in his blue eyes.

Bucky took a deep breath. "I still suffer from nightmares and night terrors," he explained softly. Steve knew how bad they could get because he and Bucky used to be roommates at St. Vincent's, and he'd seen a good deal of them and what they did to him. "I had one last night about the first foster family. They used to call me that."

"Jaime?" Steve asked, just to clarify, and he knew the answer was yes when it caused Bucky to inhale sharply. So he nodded, "Alright, Buck. It's okay; _you're_ okay. You know that...right?"

"Yeah," Bucky confirmed. "Becca held me through the night. She let me know that I was okay. I just...I'm afraid of flashbacks. But I'll be okay." He noticed the look Steve was giving him, so he added, "I promise I'll let you know if I'm not."

"Okay, good."

Brunch was delightful. It was pretty simple -- a breakfast casserole with coffee for Steve and Bucky and tea for Peggy, which didn't surprise Bucky any.

"Still drinking tea, huh, Peg?" Bucky grinned.

"Of course. Just because I moved here when I was a child doesn't mean I give into your coffee-drinking ways." She went to pour a cup of coffee for Bucky and then asked, "You still drink decaf?"

Bucky nodded.

When he started drinking coffee back in high school, Bucky started drinking decaf because he limited his caffeine intake because caffeine made him jittery and he couldn't handle that along with the boxing. And even though he hadn't fought in so long...well, old habits were hard to break.

"Tell me how you've been doing, James," Peggy said curiously as she cut up food for her daughter, even though Amelia let it be known that she could do it herself. "How've you been?"

"I'm doing well, thank you," Bucky answered cordially. "I co-own Commandos Gymnasium, down on 49th. Training fighters."

"I've heard of you," she said, glancing up at Bucky. "I thought you were a boxing gym?"

Bucky shook his head, even though that was a misconception a lot of people had about them. "No," he replied, chewing a piece of sausage. "While I was a boxer, we have other people. MMA, mostly, other than boxers. They have a lot of similar principles."

Peggy nodded. "How long have you been doing that?"

"The last couple of years," Bucky said with a shrug. He was aiming for nonchalance, but he actually knew to the day how long it'd been since he had to give up boxing and Dugan gave him his second chance. It'd been two years, eight months, and fourteen days.

"He's working with Dum Dum," Steve chimed in. "They own the gym together."

Peggy nodded. "I heard you found your sister," she said a brief moment later.

Bucky nodded. "Yeah, I found her. Well, actually, Tasha found her for me. It's been almost two years since I got guardianship of her."

"How's that going?"

Cocking his head to the side, Bucky watched Peggy curiously. He was saved from having to answer right away, though, because that's when Amelia spilled her glass of apple juice.

"Bloody hell!" Amelia all but yelled. Both Peggy and Steve gave her a stern look.

"It's just juice, darling," Peggy said in a soothing voice. Steve got up to grab a cloth to wipe it up with and Peggy looked at her daughter again, "And what did I tell you about saying that?"

"Sorry, Momma," Amelia apologized. After the juice was wiped up and Steve set another glass of juice in front of Amelia, it was all but forgotten.

After the moment had passed, Bucky continued his thought, "What did you mean earlier?"

"Well, you went from being a brother to a father figure in a mere matter of months, right?" she explained. With Bucky's nod, she continued, "How's that affecting the two of you?"

With his head cocked to the side, Bucky gave her a _look_ , "Peggy Carter, are you shrinking me?"

She laughed, "Sorry, James. Bad habit. Part of my job, you know."

Steve noticed the quizzical look on Bucky's face. "Peg's now a criminal profiler," he explained. "She works with the FBI."

"Really?" Bucky seemed interested. "You've really outdone yourself, Peg."

She just laughed.

The rest of the brunch went really well. Bucky admired Peggy -- he'd always admired her, even back in high school, but she'd just gotten to be a better person since then. She was absolutely amazing with her daughter and seemed to be genuinely happy.

She was also a really terrific parent.

Bucky pulled her aside before he and Steve left that afternoon. "It's been really good catching up with you, Peg. It's been a really long time."

Peggy pulled Bucky in for a hug. "Don't be a stranger, okay, James? Steve's got my number -- feel free to call me any time." She leaned back to look him in the eye and then said, "I mean _any time_ , okay? My phone's always on."

"Thanks, Peg," Bucky nodded. "I can't even begin to tell you what that means to me."

Peggy just smiled and nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky had a bad nightmare about his life in foster care. He tried to run away from his foster home and his older foster brother chased him down and then broke his arm. He also taunts Bucky. There's also a mention of Bucky being beaten, but that's completely off-screen.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is where the minor Tony/Bucky happens. There is sexual content in this chapter, just be warned.

After Steve took Bucky back to his apartment, he hung out for a while. Bucky had invited him upstairs, and he had nodded, following Bucky up.

Even though it was after four in the afternoon, Becca was lounging on the couch in her pajamas, _The Walking Dead_ on the television in front of her.

"Hey Buck, Steve," she greeted them as they walked through the front door.

"Have you done anything today?" Bucky asked his sister.

"Sure I have. I'm on season four of _The Walking Dead_ ," was her answer. While Steve laughed, Bucky groaned.

"Rebecca Grace, you know that's not what I meant."

Even though Bucky was trying to be stern, Becca just smiled before shrugging.

"You want a drink or something?" Bucky asked Steve, and even though Steve shrugged, he followed Bucky into the kitchen.

While Steve took a seat at the kitchen island counter, Bucky pulled a pitcher of iced tea out of the refrigerator. "You want some iced tea? Or I have some soda if you'd rather."

In the end, Steve took a glass of iced tea as well, and then looked at Bucky. It looked as though he was studying him, but Bucky couldn't pinpoint the look on Steve's face.

"I'm gonna say something," Steve said softly, still watching Bucky's eyes intently with his own, "and it might be stupid. It might sound stupid, and I need you to promise me that no matter what, we can still be friends."

"That sounds ominous," Bucky murmured, but then said, "Alright, Steve. Hit me."

"You wanna go out sometime? You know, like a date?"

The request took him by surprise, but Bucky recovered quickly. Licking his lips and watching Steve, Bucky was silent for a few long moments and Steve was starting to regret even asking, but Bucky took a deep breath and then opened his mouth.

"It's not that I don't want to," he said finally, very slowly. "I like you a lot, Steve, and I have for quite a while."

"But...?" Steve prompted.

"But I don't date. I haven't in quite some time. I've been through a lot in my past, Steve, and I've had a lot of people hurt me. I don't know how to open my heart anymore. Besides that, you're my oldest and best friend, and I don't know if I can take that leap. You know, the friends-to-lovers leap."

"Why not? Don't you trust me?"

And that was the million-dollar question, wasn't it?

"I kind of do," Bucky answered vaguely. When Steve gave him a questioning look, he added, "It doesn't matter how long I've known someone, it doesn't matter who they are. I always have a nagging doubt in my mind. It's like a little voice telling me that the only person I can trust is me."

"What about Becca?"

Bucky ran a hand over his face after sighing. "Okay, so I love Becca. You know that I would do anything for that girl. But sometimes I have trouble trusting even her."

"So you're all alone?" Steve asked, and Bucky could just hear the concern laced throughout his voice. "That's no way to live, Buck."

"I know that, Steve," Bucky snapped. "But we've _just_ reconnected, and I really need to know someone before I start to date them. I know we've known each other for a really long time, and I used to trust you more than I trusted myself, but I really need to know that I can. You've changed so much since the last time we were together -- I have, too. I'm not saying no forever. I'm just saying -- I need time."

"We can still be friends, right?" Steve asked hopefully, even though Bucky knew he was disappointed. "You're not gonna pull away from me?"

Bucky shook his head, "Nah, Stevie, I ain't gonna shut you out, I promise. I just need to get to know you again."

"I understand what you're saying," Steve answered him. "And I respect it. Take all the time you need, Buck. I'll be here when you decide you're ready."

***

Bucky was lounging on the couch, Becca's legs stretched across the couch and her feet in his lap when he got the text.

_You free? Wanna get together?_

"Who just texted you, Buck?" Becca asked, her eyes never leaving the television.

"Why, nosy?" he asked her, and she just grinned.

"That's why. I'm nosy. Now, who was it?"

"Tony."

Becca sighed; she knew what Tony Stark wanted when he texted her brother at night. "You really need to reconsider your relationship with him."

"You don't like Tony?"

"I like him just fine, as a guy. But he's using you, and that kind of pisses me off."

"He's not using me, Becks. He and I use each other when we want to blow off some steam. We're not dating; dating wasn't even the idea when we started this. This is purely a friends-with-benefits situation, and we only do this when we need some stress relief --"

"Eww, Buck, that's gross. I don't want to hear about it, especially not from _you_."

Bucky laughed as he texted his reply to Tony. After telling him that he'd love to get together, he got the answer in a millisecond.

_Your place or mine?_

_I don't want to bring you around Becca right now, so yours._

_You don't want me around your sister? I gotta say, snowflake, that hurts._

Bucky rolled his eyes, but then texted, _Give me an hour. I'll be there._

 _See you then_ , was the reply he got, and Bucky set his phone down and pushed Becca's feet off his lap.

Bucky had met Tony Stark three years ago when Bucky had been sent to rehab after his accident and Tony had been there as well. It wasn't a high-end rehab facility where the wealthy went that was more like a hotel than a hospital, because, as Tony said, _my father wanted to teach me a lesson_. Bucky was grateful, though, because he met Tony and they struck up a fast friendship.

Tony had a crush on Pepper Potts -- and he had for almost as long as Bucky'd known him -- but he was scared to put his heart out there, same as Bucky, so until he got his head out of his ass and asked Pepper out, Bucky and Tony had this thing.

He was at the Stark Mansion forty-five minutes later. He wouldn't have taken that long if it hadn't been for traffic, but hey, he was in the city that never sleeps.

He let himself through the front door -- Tony had given him a key quite some time ago -- and felt himself being pushed up against the door after it clicked closed.

It surprised the hell out of him when he felt Tony's mouth against his own, Tony's tongue tracing Bucky's bottom lip until he opened his mouth and let Tony explore.

It felt so good to be kissed like this. _I don't need true love_ , he told himself. _Not as long as I have this._

Bucky's hands flew to Tony's hips, where he gripped tightly. Tony was smaller than Bucky by quite a few inches and he didn't have as much bulk on him, but he could hold his own. And while Bucky had a pretty strong grip on his right side, ever since the accident, his left side wasn't all that strong.

"Good to see you, too," Bucky murmured when they broke apart to breathe. "Can't we make it to the bedroom first?"

"Nah, fucking on the sofa is too much fun," Tony answered, grinning. "Wouldn't you agree?"

"What I think is, the last time we fucked outside the bedroom, your mom caught us, and I couldn't even look her in the eye for a month any time I saw her. I was too embarrassed."

"I didn't know she was going to be here!" Tony defended. About five years ago, Howard and Maria had gotten divorced, and she spent a good amount of time with Tony. He had told Bucky that his mom was supposed to be vacationing in Italy with some childhood girlfriends, but she had decided to come back to New York early and had walked in on her son and Bucky going at it on the sofa in the living room. While Maria had laughed it off, saying she knew her son and how he was, Bucky had been mortified.

He thought about it every time he came into the mansion.

"Aww, cupcake, I think it's cute when you get embarrassed," Tony laughed, watching Bucky closely.

"You've mentioned."

"I had my shame surgically removed a long time ago, and I love seeing you all flustered," Tony chuckled as Bucky felt the color come to his cheeks. "But right now, I want to see you out of your clothes."

Bucky's hand reached out for Tony's, "Lead the way, then."

In a few moments, they were in Tony's bedroom, and it didn't matter how many times Bucky'd been over there, he still had the same reaction. He knew that Tony had money, but sometimes, he forgot just _how_ much, and every time he was over there, he remembered the first time, when his thought was, _Stark has got to be overcompensating for something._

The thing was, he really wasn't. Tony was just as good in bed as Bucky had heard in the gossip magazines.

Bucky didn't have a chance to overthink things, though, as Tony reached up and stripped Bucky of his leather jacket and long-sleeved shirt, and then removed his own t-shirt as well. He pushed Bucky down on the bed and kissed him long and hard.

Bucky had a hard time with other people seeing the scars that lined his left arm, but Tony was different. He always had been. Other than the doctors and Natasha, Tony was the first person Bucky had felt comfortable enough around for them to see his scars. They had been emotionally vulnerable around each other so much that it was just common sense that Tony could see Bucky's scars without making it weird.

Straddling Bucky's hips, Tony leaned down and gave Bucky a sweet kiss on his lips before leaning down and leaving open-mouthed kisses that started with Bucky's jaw. He kissed his neck, the space in-between his neck and shoulder, then moved down to his nipples, swirling his tongue around one of them and then the other, nipping at them until they were nice and hard, just like he wanted them to be.

Bucky moaned, and Tony chuckled at how loud Bucky was being. Bucky knew that he liked that; in the previous times they'd been together, Tony had never been shy about his noise kink. He loved it when Bucky made a lot of noise, and Tony himself wasn't quiet, either.

Getting off of Bucky and kneeling on the floor, Tony kissed wetly down Bucky's chest and torso, down to the waistband of his jeans. After unbuttoning and unzipping them, he leaned up to whisper, "Lift your hips for me," huskily in Bucky's ear, and Bucky moaned before complying. After his jeans and boxers had been discarded, Tony jacked Bucky's cock a few times before licking a stripe up the underside. Bucky sat up, combing his fingers through Tony's dark locks, and he went to work, swirling his tongue around the tip before dipping it into the slit to taste Bucky's pre-come.

Bucky could never get over how much Tony loved giving head. When people talked about Tony Stark's sexual prowess, nobody ever mentioned that he loved giving head as much as he did. Tony loved having a dick in his mouth, and he was so goddamned good at it, too.

Tony was an incredibly attentive lover. He took his time to make sure his partner felt good, and Bucky was so happy to be the person he chose at that moment. It'd been a while since Bucky had last let off some steam, so he was glad Tony texted him.

His thoughts started to fail him as Tony took his cock into his mouth as far as it could go, suckling lightly. Tony loved the way he tasted, and often sucked him off like he didn't want to do anything else. He reached up and massaged Bucky's balls, rolling them gently in his palm.

"Shit, Tony, oh God," Bucky started babbling. "I'm so close, pull off or else I'm gonna come."

However, Tony wasn't pulling off and Bucky let out a loud cry as he felt himself tip over the edge, filling Tony's mouth with hot, bitter come.

As Tony swallowed, he let out a moan. He looked up at Bucky, an unreadable expression on his face. Once Bucky's legs were no longer jelly, he stood up and manhandled Tony, so he was lying on the bed. Bucky rid Tony of his jeans so quickly it almost made him question what just happened, and then Bucky leaned up and sucked one of Tony's balls into his mouth, rolling his tongue over it, before doing it to the other one.

He licked a stripe up the underside of Tony's cock before pulling off, jacking him, and then saying, "C'mon, Tony, babe, you know what I want."

Bucky let Tony stand just then. As he was standing while Bucky was still on his knees, he smiled down at him. "I know what you want, sugar," he confirmed. "Be a good boy and open your mouth for me."

The praise sparked arousal throughout Bucky's entire body, which was what always happened, and Tony knew it, so Bucky did as he was instructed. Tony slid his cock into Bucky's waiting mouth. "Oh, God," he moaned as he started to fuck Bucky's mouth nice and deep. "You're such a good boy, letting me fuck your mouth," he murmured, and Bucky moaned at the praise. "You feel so fucking amazing, baby. So hot and wet, and...oh, shit." Tony let a growl leave his mouth and Bucky chuckled as best as he could with Tony still fucking his mouth.

A few moments had gone by with Tony fucking Bucky's mouth before he pulled out and then said, "Come on, baby, back on the bed. I wanna fuck you stupid."

Bucky groaned, but then he got on the bed on his hands and knees, looking over his shoulder to Tony, to see what he was doing. Tony grabbed the lube out of his bedside table and opened it with a _snick_ before coating his fingers. He ran a finger around Bucky's hole before slowly inserting it, and Bucky groaned as he was filled.

Tony started opening Bucky up, with one finger and then two, and then three, and as he was fingering Bucky open, he didn't even _touch_ Bucky's prostate -- which was something Tony liked to do, because he liked teasing Bucky and drawing it out with Tony murmuring praises all the while. Finally, Bucky groaned out, "Come on, I'm ready. So fucking ready."

Nodding, Tony pulled a condom out of his bedside table and rolled it on, placing a hand on Bucky's lower back as he entered him, slowly and carefully. When he bottomed out, they both let out a groan simultaneously, and Tony leaned down to leave a kiss on the back of Bucky's shoulder.

"C'mon, already," Bucky groaned out after Tony started to thrust nice and slow. "I thought you said you were gonna fuck me stupid."

"Oh, you wanna be a brat, do you?" Tony murmured, chuckling. He thrust a little harder, hitting a rather pleasurable spot, and Bucky groaned again. "You're really asking for it."

He started to thrust a little more roughly, tilting his hips _just right_ so he was hitting Bucky's prostate on every thrust. Bucky was making a lot of noise now; there was no way that people in the mansion were _not_ going to know what they were up to in there.

"More, Tony, please," Bucky grit out. Tony just chuckled again.

"You want more, baby, I want to hear some begging. Just how badly do you want me to give it to you?"

"So fucking bad. C'mon, Tony, please? Please fuck me harder, I need it, I'm so close, I'm gonna come..."

His voice trailed off when Tony reached around, his hand still lube-slicked, and started jacking Bucky off in time with his thrusts. The floodgates were opened, and Bucky was going to come, he was so fucking close...

"Shit, Tony, I'm gonna come," Bucky groaned, and Tony sped up his thrusts.

"C'mon, Bucky, come on and come for me," he husked in Bucky's ear, and that was enough to push him over the edge. Bucky let out a loud groan as he came over Tony's hand. Only a few more thrusts later, Tony was coming inside the condom. Pulling out, he removed it and tied it off, throwing it in the trash bin next to the bed before collapsing, practically on top of Bucky.

"Haven't had that in a while," Bucky said into the mattress. "Felt pretty damn good, too."

"Hell yeah," Tony agreed. He leaned up and grabbed a pillow, lying his head on it. "You wanna hang out for a while?"

"You fucked me pretty good," Bucky said, pulling another pillow over so he was lying next to Tony, but making sure he was out of the wet spot. "Don't expect flattery, though; don't want to make your ego even bigger."

Tony grinned, "Hey, I know I'm good. Don't need you to tell me that to know it's true."

Bucky just laughed.

After getting dressed, Bucky snuck outside to have his post-sex cigarette, and Tony followed him, even though Bucky was confused by it. Tony didn't usually do that.

"I heard you've been talking to Rogers again," Tony said conversationally while they were standing out there. Bucky shot a puzzled look his way.

Of course Bucky had told Tony about Steve. About his friendship with Steve and how he missed him, but how the hell would he even know that Steve and Bucky were spending time together?

"How do you know that?"

"I know that because a couple of years ago, my mom commissioned Rogers to do a painting for her, which turned into a couple of them, and he and I talked. We became friends, too."

"That's so weird," Bucky commented. "You and Steve do _not_ seem like you'd be friends."

"Ehh," was Tony's response. "Sometimes I want to punch him in his perfect teeth, but other times, he's pretty good company."

Bucky nodded, but then understood what Tony was saying, "You mean he talks about me?"

"Can't get him to shut up about you, more like," Tony scoffed. "He ask you out yet?"

"Yeah," Bucky nodded. "I turned him down."

"Because you're afraid of geting hurt, right, Buckaroo?" Tony asked. He nodded as he continued, "That makes sense."

"I'm not going to talk about feelings with you of all people, Tony," Bucky groaned. "Steve and I are getting to know one another again. To see if our friendship spark is still there. I need to learn to trust him again, because neither of us are the same person we were all those years ago."

Tony just nodded.

"I'll let you know if I decide to date him, though, because this thing between us is going to have to stop."

"I know," Tony agreed. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

Bucky nodded.

"So, you wanna stay tonight?" Tony asked as Bucky ground his cigarette butt into the front steps and they headed back inside. "Or you can stay for a while and then go. Whatever you want to do."

"I can stay for a while," Bucky answered as they headed straight for the kitchen. "I gotta get home to Becca eventually, though. I told her I was coming back tonight."

Even though Tony had issues eating proper meals, he always kept his kitchen well-stocked, and Bucky was always hungry after sex. He pulled out the turkey and cheese and started to make himself a sandwich when Tony sidled up beside him.

"How _is_ Becca?" he asked, and Bucky knew why he was asking that; Tony was asking about his sister because of the text he'd sent him.

"She thinks you're using me," Bucky answered bluntly. He knew that was what Tony was angling for, anyway, so that's why he decided to answer him like that. "Tried telling her that what we have is a fuck-a-friend kind of thing, whenever we need the stress relief, but she cut me off. Didn't want to hear about it."

"Of course she didn't," Tony laughed. "I mean, do _you_ want to hear about _her_ sex life?"

"Oh, God," Bucky groaned. "First, she's only sixteen; she's not allowed to have a sex life yet. And second, she's _never_ going to have one."

Tony just shot him a look.

"Okay, so I'm living in denial," Bucky amended. "But I get your point."

Tony chuckled.

They ate sandwiches and relaxed on the couch while they watched whatever Tony put on the television. Bucky wasn't sure _what_ it was, but he was only half-paying attention, anyway. He wasn't sure what to do about Steve, and because of that, his mind was elsewhere.

It was midnight when he left the mansion, bidding goodbye to Tony and promising to text him, and the ride home took about forty minutes. When he got there, Becca was asleep on the couch.

Gently, he picked his sister up and took her up the stairs, setting her down on the bed. He covered her up with the quilt Becca kept on her bed, and, as Bucky gently kissed his sister's temple, he murmured, "'Night, little sister. I love you."

That's when he went into his own bedroom to get some sleep himself.


	8. Chapter 8

Bucky wiped his eyes as he took a drink of his coffee. He'd had another rough night, full of nightmares, waking up screaming and then Becca comforting him, which turned into her falling asleep in his bed again. In the end, he only managed to get about three hours of sleep. That didn't bother him, though; Bucky had perfected functioning on very little sleep many years ago.

However, that didn't stop Clint from noticing when he walked through the gym's front doors Monday morning.

"Jesus, Buck, you look like shit," he observed. Bucky just shot a look his way.

"I'm gonna do a coffee run," Clint said a mere moment later. "I need some caffeine, and I promised the other guys that I'd get them some coffee." He shot another glance Bucky's way, and then added, "I'll bring you back some, too."

Before Bucky could remind Clint that he didn't drink caffeine, he was gone, and a mere ten minutes later, Bucky had a coffee sitting in front of him.

Bucky had decided to drink the coffee, even though he didn't drink caffeine very often, beause he figured he could use it.

Bucky's schedule was pretty empty since the tournament was over, but at eleven o'clock, he was surprised when Thor Odinson stepped into his office.

"Hello, Bucky!" Thor greeted him warmly. Bucky had always liked Thor; despite the fact that he was a hulking man, over six feet tall and just bulging with muscles, he was very kind and friendly. Yeah, he was pretty intimidating to look at, but appearances aside, he was probably the kindest, gentlest, friendliest person that Bucky knew. Natasha was always making jokes about how Thor was like an excited puppy.

Thor had been a fighter, too, many years ago, and after winning several prizes and even the heavyweight boxing title, he decided he wanted to retire. He could've been a kickass trainer, a lot like Bucky was, but instead, he decided he wanted to manage. Thor was actually inspired to manage because his own manager pushed him a little too far. Alexander Pierce had been a shitty manager who only cared about the glory and belittled people if they didn't do as well as he thought they should, so Thor brought it to the public's attention after he retired. There was a major scandal when people found out about Pierce's true colors.

"Thor!" Bucky exclaimed happily, smiling at his friend. Thor had been Bucky's manager for the last five years of his career. Bucky'd had a different manager his first year, but then switched to Thor when his old manager wanted to retire. Not only was Thor his previous manager, he was a good friend. "How are you? How's Jane?"

"Very well, my friend. Jane's also doing terrifically. She's in New Mexico right now with Erik, studying space anomalies," Thor smiled at Bucky. When Bucky had started to box, he didn't have any family because he had no idea where his sister was, so he became very close to Thor and his wife, Jane, and the two of them becoming like family to him. "How about yourself?"

"I'm getting there," Bucky replied vaguely. Hey, it was only a half-lie. He was doing better than he had been at, say, seventeen, but he _could_ be better.

"You know, Bucky, I could always tell when you were lying to me. What's going on with you these days?"

"Nightmares. Night terrors. Flashbacks," Bucky answered. Even though he was trying to be honest with Thor, he also didn't want to make a big deal out of it. He had gotten through this before and he could get through it again.

Bucky could always be honest with Thor -- after all, after his accident, since Bucky had no family, being a ward of the state for so long, they called the people listed as family on his chart, which just happened to be Natasha and Thor. "It doesn't matter. I'm going to start seeing a therapist again. I promised Becca."

"And how _is_ Becca?"

"You seem to want to catch up," Bucky observed. "You wanna get lunch?"

"That would be terrific," Thor answered brightly. "What do you feel like?"

In the end, they decided to grab some sandwiches and, as they sat there, Bucky with his water and Thor with his tea, they talked. "How's Becca?" Thor asked again.

"She's doing marvelously," Bucky answered him. "You know, she's fighting every once in a while. I've been training her, and Tasha's been fighting with her."

"I bet she's brilliant," Thor mused. "I mean, she would've inherited it."

Bucky could feel the blush color his cheeks. Becca hadn't been kidding last week when she said Bucky was shit at taking compliments. "She _is_ pretty good," he admitted.

"Why wasn't she at the tournament?" Thor questioned.

"She's only sixteen," Bucky answered him. Thor just gave him a blank look.

"Bucky, you were signed at seventeen," Thor reminded him. Bucky nodded.

"She wants to concentrate on school right now, and that's all I want for her. But hey, if she wants to become a fighter later on down the line, I'd love to train her, and we'll come straight to you."

Thor grinned, "Sounds terrific, my friend. So, let's talk business."

"I knew there was an angle for you to come and see me," Bucky muttered, and it made Thor laugh. "So, what's up?"

"We signed Sam Wilson yesterday," Thor said. Bucky looked surprised Thor just chuckled, "Yeah, I know. He said he felt like a change, even though he's going to volunteer at the VA when he has the time."

"Good," Bucky replied. "Good for him. He's pretty great, isn't he?"

"He's amazing," Thor gushed. "When I saw him at the tournament, I was blown away." He took the last bite of his sandwich and said, "In fact, he wants you to be his trainer from now on. He said the only reason he did so well was because of you."

"That's such an exaggeration," Bucky scoffed. "He did all the work himself. I just kind of pointed the way."

"You do not give yourself enough credit, my friend," Thor said, watching Bucky closely. "You know, even back when you were fighting, you were incredible. You had a fire and a passion that I haven't seen in many other people. You know that as well as I do. I always loved watching you in the ring."

Bucky nodded silently.

"Sam has that same fire. But without you to 'point the way,' as you put it, he would've been lost."

Bucky nodded again.

"So, how about becoming his trainer? He's coming to see me this afternoon, about his contact, and I can bring him 'round, if you're okay with it. He, you, and I can have a meeting about it."

"Sounds good. We can iron out the details later."

Thor smiled brightly. "Great," he grinned. "How's four for you?"

"Perfect."

Thor smiled again. "Great," he said again. "We'll see you at four."

"Yeah, Thor. Sounds great."

***

Bucky didn't have any appointments that day, but there were a few walk-ins. Everybody who was directed to Commandos Gymnasium knew that Bucky was a championship boxer, but, oddly enough, nobody really wanted to work with him today.

At three o'clock, just an hour before his meeting with Thor and Sam, Steve walked into the gym. Bucky smiled at his friend.

"Hey, Stevie," he greeted him. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you," he answered, smiling. God, even after all these years, Steve smiling looked like the sun just came out. "How are you doing?"

"I'm great," Bucky beamed. "I have a meeting in an hour."

"For what?"

"Did Sam tell you he signed with a manager?"

Steve shook his head. "He didn't mention it, no."

Bucky nodded. "Yeah. Thor Odinson -- the guy who approached Sam after he won the tournament -- came to see me today. Sam signed with Thor and asked me to train him. They'll be by in an hour."

"What about the VA?" Steve wondered aloud.

"Apparently, he's still gonna volunteer when he has the time. Thor said Sam wanted a change."

Steve nodded. After a beat of silence, he asked, "Are you and Becca free tonight?"

Bucky looked intrigued but confused. Nodding, he said, "Yeah. She's got cheer practice after school but should be home by six. Why?"

"I'd like to get to know you guys a little better. How would you like to come over for dinner? At seven? Will that give you guys enough time to shower and everything?"

"It should. I'll call her after school and let you know?"

Steve smiled. "That sounds great, Buck. I gotta go -- I only had a few minutes. Stark wants me to do some photographs for the latest StarkPhone that's coming out in a couple of months."

Bucky paused for a brief moment. Part of him wondered if Tony would tell Steve about their little arrangement. After a moment or two, he realized what he was feeling was fear. But what did he have to be afraid of? Bucky and Steve weren't dating.

 _But you want to be_ , a traitorous little voice inside his head said, _or else you wouldn't be worried at all_. Bucky tried to squash that little voice down as far as he could.

Bucky smiled at Steve. "Alright," he answered. "We'll see you later."

Steve nodded at Bucky, smiled, and then left.

The hours passed pretty quickly, especially when a client who usually saw Clint came to talk to Bucky about techniques, because Clint was trying really hard to show her the right way, but she wasn't understanding. Clint was a pretty good trainer, especially since his brother had been a fighter, but he himself had never been in an actual match before, and he often had a hard time explaining things. Bucky had helped people out more than once, but the payment always went to the original trainer.

At Commandos Gymnasium, the trainers would quite often work with one another. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary.

When Bucky saw Sam and Thor enter the gym, he grinned. Sam came up and shook Bucky's hand, but Thor was different -- he always had been -- and gave Bucky a big hug.

Now, Bucky had issues with being touched in the past. Back in several of the foster homes he'd been in, he'd only been touched when it was to cause hurt. After foster care, he'd been very wary of people touching him, and had only felt comfortable when it was either Natasha or Clint. Even when Dugan, Morita, or any of the other employees at the gym clapped him on the shoulder, he usually flinched.

But when he met Thor, he realized something. Thor was an incredibly tactile guy. It wasn't out of the ordinary for Thor to touch your shoulder, or your upper back, or even pull you into a hug. It was just the way he operated.

And Bucky trusted Thor. He trusted him with his life -- that's the only reason Bucky had agreed for Thor to become his manager all those years ago, anyway. He was compassionate and caring, and when Thor pulled Bucky into a hug, it wasn't weird. It was actually kind of nice, and very comforting.

"Jesus, Thor, you'd think that you never saw me," Bucky chuckled when they pulled apart. "We just had lunch four hours ago."

Thor just shrugged.

They took seats in Bucky's office and ironed out the details. A lot of managers insisted on being their clients' trainers, but Thor was cool about them wanting to work with other people. Thor himself had been a prized fighter, but he was there for his clients if they needed it, and he and Bucky had been working together for about a year now. Sam was insistent that Bucky train him; he was adamant that he wouldn't have gotten far in the tournament at all if it hadn't been for Bucky's training.

"When's your next match?" Bucky asked Sam, taking a sip of his water. Sam looked clueless and then glanced to Thor for help.

Thor chuckled. "Sam, we talked about this," he said gently. "Loki has challenged us to beat his champion. Apparently, he believes he's found someone who he thinks can beat Sam, but I think Sam can take him down. The match is scheduled for a Friday night, three weeks from now."

Whenever either Thor or his brother signed on a new fighter, they always had a fight; it was tradition. Both Thor and Loki were incredibly competitive guys, and they were always going on about which one of them had been able to find better talent. From what Bucky understood, Loki'd had the same champion for the last three years, although Bucky had no idea who the guy actually was.

"Who's the champion?" Bucky asked. He needed to be prepared for what he was working against.

Thor looked nervous before answering, "Brock Rumlow."

It felt like Bucky's heart just stopped. His foster brother, from the very first foster home at fourteen. It hadn't been Brock, but his older brother, who had tormented and beaten Bucky to a bloody pulp, but he'd heard tales that Brock had been just as bad with the other foster kids that had passed through their house. And here he was, about to be subjected to the Rumlows' torture once more.

"If it's too hard for you, Bucky," Thor was saying, gently, "I can easily train him myself."

Bucky took a few deep breaths. He could easily feel the anxiety attack coming on, so he concentrated on his breathing. _In, hold for five seconds, then out_ , just like Dr. Banner had taught him. He repeated the process three times before he felt his heart start to steady out again.

That's when he looked at Sam and then Thor. "I'll do it," he agreed calmly.

Sam looked curiously between Thor and Bucky, and then said, "I'm missing something here, aren't I?"

"Bucky was in foster care," Thor explained softly, because he knew that Bucky wouldn't want to go into it. Sometimes it was just easier for Bucky if someone else told the facts for him. "Brock Rumlow's family was the first foster family he had. It wasn't Brock, but his older brother, that used to abuse Bucky. He was abused pretty badly, and he still has scars on his body from the severity of it."

"Bucky, if you're going to train me to prove yourself, you can forget it," Sam said softly. It wasn't until then that Bucky remembered -- Sam had been a therapist at the VA for a while. Both Steve and Sam himself had told Bucky that. "That's not how this should go."

"I don't need to prove myself," Bucky snapped. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves, and then repeated softly, "I don't need to prove myself. I proved myself with the first tournament I ever won. I proved myself by winning my first title, by winning the welterweight championship -- and then again, when I won it the second and third fucking times. I proved myself by moving on from what those assholes did to me and _living my goddamned life_."

Sam and Thor nodded in unison.

"Alright." He took a deep breath and then looked at Thor and Sam in return. "You said the fight is three weeks from Friday, right?" When Thor confirmed Bucky's question with a nod, Bucky gave him one of his own. "Alright," Bucky said again. "How about we get started tomorrow? If Brock is anything like his brother, you're gonna need all the training you can get before the big night. When are you free?"

Shrugging, Sam said, "How about early in the morning? What time does the gym open?"

"Eight, but I have a girl who comes in from eight-thirty to ten every day. How about the slot afterwards? Ten-thirty?"

Sam nodded, "Sounds good. I'll see you then."

***

Bucky was a little shaken by the news that he'd have to come into contact with the Rumlows again. After Thor and Sam left, he gave himself twenty minutes to have a freak-out, and then, at five-thirty, he got a call from Becca.

"Practice is over, and I need a ride home," she said to him. "Can you come and get me?"

Commandos Gymnasium was usually open until eight, but this wasn't the first time Bucky left early. The rest of the guys were always understanding whenever Bucky left early -- especially when he didn't have any clients and Becca needed something. The rest of the guys -- barring Clint, of course -- all had kids, so they knew how to be flexible when Becca needed Bucky for something.

Bucky nodded, even though he knew Becca couldn't see him. "Yeah, I didn't have any clients today. I can leave now. I'll be there in twenty minutes, alright?"

"Thanks, Buck. You're the best."

Bucky idly wondered why Becca hadn't driven her car that morning. Technically, the car was _hers_ ; Bucky had purchased it for her when he had gotten guardianship of his sister, even though Becca hadn't been quite old enough to get her license yet -- that way, it'd be there for her when she was ready. She usually drove to school, but there were times she didn't. Whenever Bucky and Becca went somewhere together, they always drove her car instead of his bike, because Becca was terrified of motorcycles. The foster family she'd had, their son had died in a car crash with a drunk driver on a motorcycle, and ever since, she refused to get on one.

Bucky spent the drive trying not to think about the fight between Sam and Brock. He knew he wasn't going to succeed at that, though, so he turned on the radio to a punk rock station.

Listening to punk rock whenever he was upset was something Bucky had started when he was a teenager. As terrible as it sounded to other people, the reason Bucky did that was because it reminded him that he wasn't the only one going through a hard time. It made him feel better.

As soon as Becca got in the car, though, she knew something was up right away. "Punk rock, huh?" she asked him, setting her duffel bag in the backseat. "What happened?"

"Do you remember Steve's friend Sam?" he asked her, and she nodded. "He's a fighter now. He signed with Thor."

"That's great!" Becca exclaimed happily. "I really like Thor."

Bucky laughed. "Everybody who's ever met the man likes him, Becks. Sam's first fight is in three weeks from Friday. He's fighting Brock Rumlow."

Bucky wasn't sure if Becca knew _exactly_ who Brock Rumlow was, but he got his answer when her eyes narrowed. "Brock Rumlow, the dickbag who used to abuse you?" she growled.

"Not exactly. It was Brock's older brother that did all that stuff to me. But Brock is boxing now, and he has to fight Sam, and Thor's asked me to train him, and I said I would --"

"To prove yourself?" The sneer in Becca's voice was evident, but Bucky was doing his best to ignore it.

Bucky shook his head, heading to their apartment. "I don't need to prove myself, Becks, I've done that already. I just don't know if I can see him again. That family abused me, humiliated me, they made me the hollowed-out shell I am now. It might cause a panic attack, it might cause an anxiety attack -- hell, it could be worse, like a flashback or a red-out. I don't know if I should chance it."

"So why do it?"

"I'm the only trainer in New York that happens to know Brock's fighting style and his weak points. Only I know that when we were fourteen, he broke his right arm pretty badly and now favors his left side. Only I know that he tends to be pretty aggressive when he fights, and his opponents need to watch out for that. To be on the defense whenever they get into the ring with him. Only I know how to beat that bastard, once and for all."

Becca nodded. She leaned over and placed her hand on her brother's. "Whatever you do, Buck, just remember that I'm backing your play one hundred and fifty percent, okay? And I want to go to that fight, to go for moral support for you."

"Alright, Becca," Bucky answered her, a smile covering his lips. He knew that he wouldn't be able to change Becca's mind once she made it up. "Alright. I love you, little sister."

Becca grinned, "I love you, too, Buck."


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I've been lacking on updates, and I'm sorry. First I had a sinus infection that was particularly terrible. Then I had an upper respiratory infection, and I just got over the flu. I'm gonna try to post a chapter once a day until the rest of this thing is posted.
> 
> Also, trigger warning in this chapter. There is a very serious, no way am I fucking around trigger warning for self-harm and suicidal ideation in this chapter. Seriously, guys, the scene is VERY GRAPHIC, especially the thoughts of someone who is a self-harmer. The scene is in italics, so if you scroll past the italics, you'll be good, if that's a trigger for you.

Steve had texted Bucky the address of his apartment, and he and his sister had arrived by seven-twenty. Bucky knew they were a little late, but he had promised Becca she could drive, and she got lost. Bucky had sighed at that; he knew his sister and her directions -- she could barely go anywhere and not get lost somewhere along the way.

Steve greeted them with a smile. "Good to see you both," he said cordially. He smiled at them and then gestured towards the open room. "Come in."

They followed Steve into the living room, where he had an array of pictures hanging on the walls. Some of them were paintings and some of them were photographs, but they were all amazing.

"Did you do these?" Becca asked him curiously. "They're incredible."

Steve blushed, "Yeah, these are my favorites that I've done. You really like them?"

"Are you kidding me?" she asked with a level of excitement that only a sixteen-year-old girl could achieve. "They're fucking amazing."

Bucky nodded enthusiastically.

"I think you've gotten better as time's gone by, Stevie," Bucky noted. "You used to be really good way back when, but you're fucking unbelievable now."

Bucky thought the blush that colored Steve's cheeks was completely adorable.

"So, I'm not very good with food," Steve admitted, leading Bucky and Becca into the dining room, and Bucky just laughed. Steve shot a questioning glance at him.

"Sorry," Bucky apologized. "It's just that, you never _could_ cook, could you, punk?"

That made Becca laugh.

"Buck, you jerk. I've gotten better since all those years ago at St. V's," Steve defended with a laugh. "But it's usually only me, unless Peg and Ang are over here, and even then, one of them usually does the cooking."

Bucky nodded.

"But anyway, I threw together spaghetti, but I can't vouch for how good it is." Steve looked truly embarrassed, and Bucky felt really bad for him, but smiled anyway.

"It's fine, Steve," he reassured his friend. "Besides, Becks eats pretty much everything, anyway, so there's no need to be self-conscious or anything."

Becca groaned, but with that single comment, the atmosphere seemed so much lighter.

Steve's spaghetti turned out to be pretty damn good. Sure, it wasn't the best that Bucky'd ever tasted, but he really enjoyed it, and so did Becca.

They were still sitting at the dining room table a few hours later, just trading stories, with Becca asking questions every once in a while, and totally loving hearing how her brother was at her age.

"Do you remember the first time I met Nat and Clint?" Steve asked, taking a drink of his beer. Sure, Steve had beer in his apartment, but so far, Bucky had been able to resist.

He couldn't blame his friend, however. Steve had no idea about Bucky's battle with alcohol. Bucky had done so much to cover it up from him, after all. And while Becca had commented that they couldn't have it in the house, she didn't explain things, either.

Snapping himself from that thought, he smiled at his friend. "I was sixteen, you were fifteen," he said. With a nod from Steve, he continued, "You were still a wisp of a thing, and I thought for sure Tasha was going to knock you flat."

Steve laughed.

"You always did appreciate, Tasha, though," Bucky added thoughtfully, "although when you couldn't believe she was a fighter, it was almost like the biggest insult anybody had ever said to her."

Becca gasped, "You didn't believe Tasha could fight?" Both Steve and Bucky could tell from her reaction that Becca was having a hard time believing it.

Steve was silent, but then he nodded. That's when Bucky looked at his sister.

"When Steve first met Tasha and Clint, Becks, Tasha and Steve were the same size. I'm not sure whether or not they weighed the same, but they were the same height and had similar body sizes. Looking back now, I can understand why he didn't believe it. Although, doubting Tasha was a really bad thing."

Steve nodded, "Yeah, I know that _now_."

"We had only known each other for maybe a month?" Steve asked. Then he looked at Becca, "I was the unlucky bastard who had to be your brother's roommate."

"Unlucky?" she questioned.

"I was different back then," Bucky explained. "Surly, angry, very temperamental. I'd had a few other roommates before Steve came to live with us, and I kinda scared them off. In fact, I had the room by myself for about four months before he came along."

"Your brother had the perfect murder face," Steve said to Becca, watching her closely. "Hardly anybody could get along with him."

"Don't listen to him, Becca," Bucky muttered, rolling his eyes. "It's all lies."

Steve held up his hands, "Swear to God, Becks, it's true. Bucky was there for about a year before I showed up, and there were kids I'd talked to, telling me that I'd better be careful or else he'd kill me in my sleep. They were afraid of him." With a fond look Bucky's way, Steve added, "But I wasn't gonna let him scare me off. I was braver than that."

Becca giggled, "Apparently they didn't know him very well."

"True," Steve agreed, winking at Becca. "You and I, we both know that your brother's a big softie."

All of the sudden, Bucky's cheeks felt hot. Was he actually _blushing_? 

"We didn't exactly have the most normal high school life, Becks," Bucky said softly. "Steve and I were outcasts."

"Not true, Buck," Steve said, his voice matching Bucky's softness. " _You_ could charm pretty much any girl you wanted. Guys, too. They would practically fall at your feet if you asked them to."

Becca just gave Bucky a look.

Bucky rolled his eyes, not wanting to have to explain this to his sister, but once Steve opened the door, he knew there was absolutely no way to avoid it. "See, Becks, the thing is, I could be charming when I wanted to be. Flirting, charisma, that kind of shit came easy. I could do it with my eyes closed. It was when people actually started to get to know me, I scared a lot of them off because of how serious I was all the time."

Steve laughed, "Yeah, and then there was Dugan."

"Dum?" Becca asked, stormy blue eyes wide again. "What do you mean?"

"So, I met Dum Dum when I was almost seventeen. I had already been at St. V's for a couple years and was pretty into mixed martial arts at the time, but I wanted to know more about boxing. Commandos was about four blocks from St. V's, and I wandered in there one day. That's when I met Dugan's old man."

Becca nodded, her eyes still wide, so Bucky continued, "I knew Dum Dum a little. I mean, we were in the same grade at school, and we'd talked a few times, so I sorta knew _who_ he was. I also knew that his old man ran a gym, although before I walked into Commandos, I had no idea it was _that_ gym."

Becca nodded again. Bucky glanced across the table at his friend and decidedly ignored the smirk on Steve's face as he continued, "I went in there, introduced myself to Dugan's old man, and all of the sudden, Dum Dum just knocked me flat."

Becca shot a quizzical glance Bucky's way.

Steve was holding a hand in front of his mouth, but Bucky knew he was laughing because his body was literally shaking. Bucky rolled his eyes; Steve was _enjoying_ this, the bastard.

"I was pissed, but mostly stunned," Bucky continued. "So I just laid there on the floor for a minute or two while Dugan's old man railed on him for hitting what looked like a good, strong guy without provocation. Dugan laughed for a minute and then reached out his hand to help me to my feet. Apologized and then said he'd always wanted to do that."

Bucky could see the mirth dancing in his sister's eyes.

"Turns out I hooked up with his girl at a party about two months earlier," Bucky said, a chuckle leaving his lips. "I didn't _know_ she was his girlfriend, or else I never would've, but I figured she was fair game. Besides, _she_ came onto _me_."

"Oh my God," Becca laughed. "That is the single greatest thing I've ever heard."

"Of course, Stevie here was right by my side when it happened, and he was completely stunned. At least I'm guessing you were," he looked at Steve, "since you didn't come to my rescue right away."

"I knew Dum Dum was a good guy," Steve answered. "Besides, I figured he wouldn't have hit you if he didn't have a damn good reason."

"Well, anyway, we ironed out what happened between us and that's when I talked to his old man about how I wanted to fight. Of course, he wanted to see what I was capable of, and ordered Dugan into the ring with me."

Becca nodded slowly.

"I beat him," Bucky's voice was smug, along with the smirk playing on his lips. "In the first three minutes."

"You can't tell me that you didn't do that because of what he did to you, Buck, try as you might," Steve interjected. "I mean, that was a hard hit you gave him."

Bucky shrugged, "He deserved it, the bastard."

Becca let out a huge laugh. It actually took Bucky a bit by surprise; it was a full-belly laugh, and Bucky had _never_ seen her do that before, not in the two years he'd had guardianship of her. It was really great that she did that, though. Bucky had always worried about how his sister was adjusting.

If Bucky was being honest with himself, it was a damn good thing to see.

He was also really happy that Steve and Becca got along so well.

It was almost eleven o'clock when Bucky and his sister left Steve's apartment. Steve escorted both of them to the front door when Bucky looked at his friend.

"I'm gonna be super-busy for the next few weeks," Bucky warned him when Steve asked if he wanted to get together sometime soon. "Sam's first tournament is coming up in three weeks from Friday, and he's going to need my help, considering who he's fighting."

"Who _is_ he fighting?" Steve asked curiously. Bucky sighed.

"I promise I'll tell you another time, but I _really_ don't want to get into it right now. But the fight is the second Friday of November, if you're interested in coming. Seven o'clock at my gym."

Steve nodded. "I'll be there, Buck," he said with a smile. "If I don't see you before, I'll see you then."

Bucky just smiled.

***

Bucky reserved a four-hour slot the next day for Sam, just in case, even though he didn't think they'd be working that long at one time. He wanted Sam to preserve as much energy as he could, but he also wanted to make sure Sam was well-trained.

"First thing's first, Sam; Brock broke his right arm when we were fourteen, and, ever since, he's favored his left side because the injury to his arm was really brutal. He broke it in three different places and it never healed correctly. Because his right side is pretty much worthless, he over-uses his left. You could probably use that to your advantage."

Sam nodded. That's when Natasha walked through the gym's doors.

"Hey, Tasha," Bucky greeted his friend with a smile and a hug. "You're right on time."

She motioned to the duffel bag she was holding. "I'm gonna go change, James," she said, nodding towards the locker rooms. "I'll be right back."

When Sam looked confused, Bucky explained to him, "I can't actually get into the ring with you. Because of the extensive damage to my left side, I can't rotate my shoulder like I need to. Because of that, when I was talking to Tasha about it yesterday afternoon, she offered to get into the ring with you and help you out. She's got the day off, so she can help you out, and she figured it'd be more comfortable for you since the two of you know each other so well."

"Okay," Sam agreed hesitantly. "Sure."

When Natasha came out, she was dressed in a black sports bra and a pair of black and gold workout shorts. She took a moment to lace up her sneakers and then looked over at Bucky and Sam.

"Okay, you know the drill, Tasha," Bucky said, and she nodded. She put on the protective gear she needed to and then stepped into the ring with Sam.

"James and I do this fairly often," Natasha explained to Sam. "He can't rotate his left shoulder, so he can't show examples. The other guys have clients today and can't help him out, so that's why I'm here."

"You sure?" Sam asked hesitantly. At that, Natasha laughed.

"James may have been the winner of the welterweight championship three years running, but I was also a fighter. MMA, when I was a teenager. I can take care of myself."

Sam nodded, but looked a little embarrassed for jumping to conclusions.

As Natasha and Sam fought with one another, Bucky would yell out pointers. Sam was a great fighter and he caught on very quickly. Bucky would make sure to praise Sam when he did well -- that was actually something he'd learned from his time with Thor.

At twelve-thirty they decided to break for lunch, Natasha dragging Sam and Bucky to the diner next door. Bucky had gone over the _boxer's perfect diet_ when Sam started training, and Bucky was glad to see when, at the diner, he ordered fish and vegetables with water.

Bucky was proud that he was taking his diet seriously.

Bucky was really starting to like Sam Wilson. He was nice and playful and seemed to be able to sense whenever Bucky was slipping into a flashback and was able to help him. Bucky would have to remind himself that Sam had worked with war vets before, so he probably knew all the warning signs.

"So, I'm having a get-together on Saturday night," Sam said to Bucky once they were finished with training for the day. Bucky _had_ been right -- while he had set aside four hours for Sam Wilson, they'd only used two and a half. "Nothing big; just low-key, with pizza, drinks, and video games."

"Video games, really?" Bucky asked. Sam laughed at the surprised expression on Bucky's face.

"Yeah," he confirmed, nodding. "Nat's gonna be there, and Steve, too."

"Anyone else?"

Sam nodded again, "Yeah. Tony Stark said he'd stop by, with Pepper Potts, and Clint said he'd be there, too."

Bucky paused for a moment. Should he accept, with Tony being there? What if Tony let it slip about their relationship? He didn't want Steve to hear about it.

"You know Tony Stark?" was what he decided on. Sam nodded.

"Stark donates millions to the VA, for veterans. He also just started a bionic prosthetics program, just for veterans who've lost limbs in battle. Why?"

Bucky shook his head. "No reason," he answered. Then he looked Sam up and down, "Did you say drinks? What kind of drinks?"

"Is there something you can't have?" Sam asked gently.

Bucky sighed, "I don't go into it very often, but I'm a recovering alcoholic." He watched Sam's face to see if Sam would pity him, but that particular emotion never covered his features. "That's the reason my arm and shoulder are fucked up -- I was drunk and in a pretty bad motorcycle accident about four years ago. That's why I can't fight anymore -- I ruined my chances by making the stupid decision I did."

Sam nodded. Then he looked at Bucky, "You can't handle alcohol being there at all?"

"I was at Steve's place for dinner last night," Bucky started, watching Sam. He figured that, as a therapist, Sam had probably heard all of this before. "Steve had a beer, and there was the temptation. I managed to refrain, but the temptation was pretty bad. I'm afraid that if I'm given the temptation again, I won't be able to say no."

Sam nodded again. "Then there won't be any alcohol," he said firmly.

"I don't want you to have to abstain because of me," Bucky protested, watching Sam closely. "If you want to drink, if your friends want to drink -- I don't want to get in the way of that."

"Don't worry about it, man," Sam said, clapping Bucky's shoulder. Bucky flinched at that, like he usually did whenever someone touched him, and Sam quickly removed his hand. Trying to ignore the awkwardness of it, Sam continued, "Besides, we can deal with no alcohol for the night. My mom would actually thank you if she found out -- she's been trying to get me to abstain for years."

"Umm...what are you gonna tell Steve?" Bucky asked. Sam looked confused.

"Steve doesn't know I had problems with alcohol," Bucky admitted, blushing a little. "I don't want him to get the wrong impression of me."

Sam nodded, "Listen, man, I'll take care of everything. Don't worry about a thing."

***

__  
_Bucky was on the linoleum floor of the bathroom in the Rumlow house, a straight razor in his left hand, blood oozing from the slits on his wrist, dripping down his skin and falling to the floor._

_He hadn't passed out yet but was starting to feel woozy. He wasn't sure how to deal with all the hurt, all the emotional pain that was going through his body right now, so he needed to cut. He needed to feel the one thing that would take the edge off._

_Bucky was fourteen when he started to cut. It was an accident -- he overheard someone in his biology class mention how self-harm made her feel pleasantly numb, and she didn't think she'd ever be able to quit, so he decided to give it a try._

_The first time had been_ euphoric _. It had brought a feeling of peace to him that he hadn't ever felt, not since he'd been placed in foster care three months earlier. His life had been so full of emotional pain these last three months, and he needed something to take the edge off, but hadn't been sure what to do._

_This time he was glad he'd eavesdropped._

_He felt like his life was going to be over the way he'd been abused and mistreated, and so he just needed something to help with the emotional pain he was carrying around in his body. He needed something to take the edge off._

_But when the bleeding didn't start to wane after a few moments had gone by, that's when Bucky realized he'd cut too deep. He was going to die before someone found him._

_Which was okay, really. He'd been through so much hell. He just wanted some peace. He'd had to fight his way through life, even before foster care, and he was just so goddamned tired. He just wanted to be left alone._

_That's when he passed out on the bathroom floor._

_When he awoke, he was in the hospital. He was familiar with the way hospitals looked and smelled; the off-white of the walls, the smell of bleach and disinfectant prominent throughout the building. He looked over and noticed that his foster mother was sitting there._

_"Hey, Jaime," she said softly. He rolled his eyes; he knew that her being there was just for show._

_"What do you want?" he asked her rudely. "You couldn't just let me go, could you?"_

_The look on her face turned to one of anger. "Don't forget, Barnes, you mean absolutely_ nothing _to me," she sneered. "The only reason I'm here is because both my husband and I could be brought up on charges if you died. That's it."_

 _"Don't worry,_ Daphne _," he snarled right back. "I wish I_ would've _died, but I wouldn't want to make life harder for you, God forbid."_

_She rolled her eyes and when a nurse came into the room to look him over, she turned on the waterworks, but Bucky knew that was just for show as well. She had to play the part of the grief-stricken mother, even though she had outright admitted that if there hadn't been repercussions for her family, she would've been completely content to just let him die._

_Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. "I don't fucking want you here, Daphne," he snapped. "Get. Out."_

_And even though he was only fourteen and she could make his life a living hell, she did as he requested. When the nurse asked what was going on, he replied, "She doesn't give a damn about me. All the tears and bullshit, that was just for show. She doesn't care if I die."_

_"Then why save you?" The nurse asked softly. Bucky could tell that she was being incredibly empathetic._

_"Because," he answered, "she doesn't want the negative effects. Believe me when I say this -- that family has abused me so bad. Beaten me, hurt me. They don't give one goddamn about me."_

_The nurse scurried out of the room so she could call his caseworker, but Bucky knew that his caseworker cared less about him than even that stupid foster family did._

_Nobody cared about Bucky Barnes. He wasn't wanted, wasn't loved. The only person that cared about him and loved him had been his baby sister, and he wasn't ever going to see her again._

Bucky bolted upright in bed. He felt the wetness on his cheeks -- which didn't surprise him any. He had often cried after a dream like this one.

Sighing, Bucky rubbed a hand over his face. He wiped away the wetness that was glistening under his eyes, and he could feel his body shaking.

The tremors weren't _too_ bad right now; Bucky'd had much, much worse.

Checking his phone on the nightstand beside the bed, Bucky saw it was just after five-thirty. He knew he'd have to be up in a little over an hour, anyway, so he pulled himself out of bed.

After a shower and pulling a comb through his hair, Bucky dressed and went downstairs. He didn't have to leave until seven-thirty at the latest, so he decided to put together a coffee cake. One of Becca's favorite things was blueberry coffee cake, and Bucky liked to indulge her every once in a while, to let Becca have something she adored.

However, Bucky also knew that if Becca woke up to the smell of blueberry coffee cake, she'd know that Bucky'd been up for a while, and would conclude that he had another nightmare. He wasn't sure why, but for some reason, he dreaded the thought of his sister knowing he'd had another flashback-y dream.

After debating it in his head for about five minutes, Bucky finally decided _fuck it_. So he got the ingredients out of the cupboards and the blueberries from the refrigerator and turned the oven on to preheat as he mixed the ingredients together.

Half an hour later, after Bucky'd taken the coffee cake out of the oven to let it cool, he saw his sister wander down the stairs. She'd just rolled out of bed, he'd noted, because her dark hair was all mussed and hadn't been brushed yet, and she was still in the shorts and tank top combo that she'd gone to bed in. She had her glasses on her face crookedly, like she'd just put them on, mostly likely because she never put her contacts in until after she'd already showered.

"Hey, Buck," his sister said groggily, her voice laced with sleep. "What's the matter?"

"Huh?" he asked, even though he knew _damn well_ what Becca was asking him. "Why do you say that?"

"It's a coffee cake. At --" she glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall before continuing, " -- six-thirty on a Wednesday morning. You never make coffee cake this early unless you've already been up for a while."

She took a seat at the kitchen island counter as Bucky opened the refrigerator. "Do you want juice, Becks? We've got grape and orange."

"Grape, please," she said, sighing. She laid her head down on the counter, which was something she damn well knew that Bucky hated because, as he'd often said to her, _do you know how many germs are on kitchen surfaces, Becca?_ He'd said it to her probably a hundred times, but she kept on doing it, probably because she loved to annoy her older brother.

After a few silent moments, Bucky went over to the coffee cake. However, Becca wasn't _stupid_ ; she knew _damn well_ what her brother was doing. There wasn't much that Bucky could hide from her, even if he wanted to.

He decided to act nonchalantly about it, hoping that if he didn't make a big deal, it wouldn't make Becca want to apologize. "I woke up early," he said, shrugging. He handed Becca a plate with a piece of coffee cake on it and a fork. "Couldn't get back to sleep, so I decided to make you breakfast. Is that okay with you?"

Becca's gaze never faltered while she was eyeing her brother. Bucky knew right away from the look in her eyes that she wasn't buying his particular brand of bullshit.

"It's the truth, Becks, I swear it -- I woke up early, and I knew that I had to get up in an hour anyway, so I just decided to get up. Besides, it's blueberry coffee cake in the middle of the week -- are you _really_ gonna fight me on it?"

Becca shook her head. "You know I love blueberry coffee cake," she sighed. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

"About what?" Bucky asked as he crinkled his brow.

"The nightmare," she stated simply, cutting into the coffee cake after Bucky brought it to her. "The only time you usually wake up early is because of nightmares. So, if you wanna talk about it, big brother, I'm here for you."

Bucky smiled softly at his sister. "Thanks, Becca," he said softly. "I appreciate the offer. And if I want to talk about it, I promise I'll come to you."

Becca grinned, "Thanks, big brother. Now, let's eat this coffee cake. It looks _excellent_."


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry the update is late, but for the last 3 days I've been in bed with the worst migraine headache. I'm feeling a lot better now, so here it is.

Sam came into the gym that morning, and then Bucky had an appointment with Dr. Banner at four.

Natasha had hooked Bucky up with Dr. Banner almost four years ago, but Bucky stopped seeing him for a while. Part of it was because Bucky hated talking about his feelings, about his past and the way things happened. The other part, if Bucky had to be honest, was that he felt like he was dependent on someone to make him healthy -- and he _hated_ that. He hated that he had to depend on _anyone_ to get healthy. As he'd told Natasha so many times -- he'd taken care of himself as a teenager. He could take care of himself now.

 _Just because you_ can _take care of yourself doesn't mean you should always have to_ , Becca had told him more than once since moving in with him. And Bucky honestly had to admit -- she had a point. It's just that, after taking care of himself for so many years, he had a _really_ difficult time letting _anyone_ take care of him.

"So, tell me, James, how've you been?" Dr. Banner asked as he watched Bucky closely.

Bucky and Bruce Banner had known each other for a while, but there had always been a bit of tension between the two of them. Bucky hated talking about his past -- at least, he hated talking about his past with medical professionals and psychologists. A lot of the time, he looked at it like this: this stuff happened to him and he couldn't take it back, it was part of his personality, but when it came to actual doctors and psychologists, he just wanted people to realize that he could make it by himself. He didn't want anyone to _judge_ him.

Natasha didn't count, though; she may have been a psychologist, but they'd been really close friends for an incredibly long time.

Bucky wouldn't even be here if he hadn't promised Becca he'd start attending. But a promise made to Becca was a promise that Bucky would _never_ break.

So Bucky filled Dr. Banner in. He talked about how he had Sam, and how he was doing with his fighting; how Bucky was incredibly proud of all the progress he'd made. He told Dr. Banner about how Steve and he had renewed their friendship, and even talked about how Steve had asked him out.

"Why did you turn him down?" Dr. Banner asked softly, patiently.

Something that Bucky liked about Dr. Banner was that he was an incredibly patient man. When Bucky had told Dr. Banner during their very first session about his anger management problem, the doctor had explained to Bucky that he needed to find a way to channel it. He mentioned that he'd had a very bad temper in his youth, and suggested yoga and meditation to Bucky as a way to keep himself under control.

"I don't date anymore, Doc," Bucky stated. He couldn't understand why Dr. Banner would ask that question; Bucky had told him during several different sessions that he didn't want to date anymore. He didn't want to put his heart on the line -- and Dr. Banner _knew_ that.

"You ever think you'd be able to trust him with your heart, James?" Dr. Banner asked. Behind his glasses, Bucky could see the kindness in Dr. Banner's brown eyes. Something that Bucky'd always liked about the man was that he was so kind and compassionate. It practically just _oozed_ out of him.

"It's been a long time since Steve and I knew each other, Doc," Bucky stated. "We're getting to know each other again."

Dr. Banner nodded. Then he said something Bucky didn't expect, "I know that you don't want to trust your heart to anybody, James, but how are you going to know whether or not Steve is the type of guy he used to be if you don't give him that chance?"

Bucky sat there, watching the doctor, dumbstruck. He was having a hard time even believing that Dr. Banner had said that.

He took a few moments to really let Dr. Banner's words sink in before saying, "Alright, Doc. I'm gonna give him a chance. But don't be surprised if I come back to say I told you so."

Dr. Banner's only response to that was a nod.

***

Saturday came way too quickly.

Sam had invited Bucky to video game night, and Bucky hadn't been sure if he wanted to go or not, but he had accepted, and that was that.

When Bucky told Becca about it, she'd been surprised.

No -- _surprised_ hadn't been an adequate word to explain the shocked look on Becca's face, the way her stormy blue eyes had widened, and the fact that she had uttered, "I'm so proud of you, Buck."

Becca had been downright fucking _blown away_.

So, on Saturday evening, Bucky and Becca had gone over to Sam's house.

Sam shared a house with his longtime boyfriend, something that he'd mentioned to Bucky several times but whom he hadn't actually introduced -- a man called Riley. Apparently, Sam and Riley had been together since they were in high school together, and they had been incredibly close, even when Sam enlisted in the Air Force and Riley didn't. They had been friends for a very long time and loved each other very much.

When Bucky first found out that Sam was bi -- which made absolutely _no_ difference to him; after all, Bucky was pan and he knew he had been for a long fucking time -- he warned him that things were going to be difficult when the public found out. Some people had issues with LGBT boxers; Bucky had gone through that himself.

When he was in foster care, he'd had a lot of foster parents put him down, or even straight out refuse to _be_ his foster parents, when they found out about his sexuality. Even when he was fighting as a teenager, a lot of people knew what his sexuality was, because he refused to pretend, or even hide a single part of who he was. Even Dugan's old man knew about his sexuality, and he had never been ashamed of who he really was.

He'd had a lot of people say some awful things about being a pansexual boxer, but none of that bothered him. He knew that he was a damn good boxer, and honestly, that's all that should matter.

So Bucky and his sister arrived at Sam and Riley's house at six o'clock that evening, and they were the last ones there. Sam greeted them at the door.

"Hey," he said, looking from Bucky to his sister. Becca smiled shyly.

"I hope you don't mind that I brought my sister," Bucky said softly. "She just really likes get-togethers."

Sam shook his head, "No problem, man. Besides, I've heard a lot about her." Sam looked at Becca before continuing, "I hear all your favorite people are here."

Becca giggled, and Sam led the two of them into the living room.

One of the things about Bucky's sister was that she was a _huge_ video game geek. Bucky knew that a good portion of what Becca and Wade did together was play first-person shooters on his Xbox. Bucky liked video games, too, but nowhere near as much as his sister did.

It didn't help that Bucky didn't have a very good grip on his left side and sometimes struggled at gripping a video game controller.

Steve, Clint, and a man Bucky presumed was Riley -- he was the only one there that Bucky _didn't_ recognize, as they'd never been properly introduced -- were playing Mario Kart on Sam's big screen TV, and Steve looked up when he saw Bucky enter. He smiled softly at his friend but then continued with his game with the other fellas.

"James, it's good to see you!" Natasha ambushed Bucky when he went into the kitchen to get a drink. He noticed that Sam had set out a bunch of bottles of soda, but there wasn't an alcoholic beverage in sight. "I can't believe Sam actually got you here!"

"He just asked, Tasha," Bucky replied softly. They were the only two in the kitchen, and so Natasha looked at Bucky with tender eyes.

"You told Sam about your fight with alcohol," she stated. It wasn't a question; Bucky knew that she was stating a fact. There was a look of surprise that overcame Natasha's face as she said it, too.

Bucky nodded. "Yeah," he admitted. "I wasn't going to, but he invited me, and I had to let him know that if there were any, I wouldn't be able to be here."

"And he took it okay?"

Again, Bucky nodded. "Yeah," he answered. "I didn't want to, Tasha, but I'm not going to pretend that battle didn't happen. I've come a long way since then, you know."

Natasha nodded, "I know, James. Next month it's been four years sober for you."

Bucky smiled. "I know it," he said proudly. "It's a battle I never thought I'd win but look at me doing it."

Natasha was really glad to hear Bucky admit that he was proud of something he'd done. When he had his fight with alcohol, she'd spent a good amount of time trying to give her friend advice, but knew that, until he was ready, he wasn't going to listen to anything she had to say to him.

And then the accident happened.

Bucky had hit rock bottom after his accident, and when he had to give up boxing, that was incredibly traumatic for him. Natasha worked with him, taking him to physical therapy appointments and she'd been his shoulder to cry on whenever he needed it.

Bucky Barnes was _not_ one to show vulnerability to _anyone_. The only person Bucky was ever consciously vulnerable around had been Becca, but after the accident happened, he wasn't even aware of how he'd shown weakness to Natasha. She knew he never would've done it if he had realized that's what he was doing.

They had been friends for a very long time, ever since they were fifteen years old, and Natasha knew that Bucky trusted her with everything he had. She was also incredibly honored that Bucky _could_ trust her; so much wrong had been done to him over the years that he didn't trust easily. In fact, he told Natasha more than once that he was _more_ wary around his friends.

 _You never know when people are going to take your weaknesses and exploit them_ , he'd said to her more than once. _If you show weakness, people know_ exactly _how to kick you once you're down._

An hour passed before Tony Stark showed up. Only Natasha, Becca, and Tony's assistant, Pepper Potts, knew that Bucky and Tony occasionally slept together. Since Natasha had been such good friends with Bucky over the years, they talked quite often, and Natasha knew things that not a lot of other people did. Bucky confided in her quite a lot.

Bucky was in the kitchen again, getting a drink, when he was approached by Tony. He smiled at his friend.

"Hey there, Buckaroo," Tony said easily, grabbing a bottle of water out of the cooler that was on the kitchen counter. "I'm surprised to see you here."

"I'm actually surprised to be here," he responded. He took a drink of his soda before saying, "I'm also surprised to see you here."

Tony shrugged, "Pepper wanted to come. I said I'd accompany her."

"Are you guys an item now?" Bucky asked. He was worried he'd sound jealous -- no, Bucky _wanted_ Pepper and Tony to get together. Even though it would ruin their fuck buddy relationship, more than anything, Bucky wanted to see his friends happy. And with everything Tony had been through over the years, he deserved all the happiness in the world.

Tony shrugged, "KInda. Probationary."

"Good for you," Bucky nodded. "Stark, you better treat her right, you hear me? Pepper's a classy lady and she deserves the world. You be sure to give it to her."

"I thought you were _my_ friends, Barnes," Tony joked, although Bucky could tell there was a real meaning behind his words. "Don't you think I'm capable of treating Pepper the way she deserves?"

"You _are_ capable," Bucky said softly. "I really do believe that. But you get scared and tend to run because of it. Don't do that to Pepper. She deserves everything."

Bucky noticed the way Tony's dark brown eyes softened. "I know she does," Tony admitted. "And I'm going to do my best to give it to her."

Knowing that the serious talk was over, Bucky patted Tony on the shoulder and said, "Good for you, Tony."

The night was nice. The guys all traded turns on the video game system, but when Sam, Clint, and Riley made room so Becca could join them, it just made Bucky's heart sing.

Every one of Bucky's friends knew how much his little sister meant to him. There had been so many years they'd spent apart, and Becca was his _entire world_. Even though Bucky hadn't been hanging around Sam and Steve very long, the way they accepted Becca and treated her well meant a lot to him.

Even though it was the end of October, Bucky found himself out on Sam's back deck. Sam lived far enough out of the city limits that Bucky couldn't hear the hustle and bustle of the city, and he was just standing there, gazing at the stars. When he was in the city, the view of the stars was really shitty, but here, on Sam's porch, he had a really good view.

Bucky had always been a space nerd. It wasn't _just_ science fiction that Bucky enjoyed -- he also really loved learning what was out there. When he was a teenager, his classmates had often debated whether or not there could be aliens out there, but Bucky didn't really care about that. Maybe there _were_ aliens, but he was just more curious about learning about the planets and stars.

"I'd wondered where you'd run off to," came the deep voice from behind him, startling him. It startled him, yes, but Bucky would recognize Steve's voice anywhere. He turned to look at Steve behind him.

"It's so peaceful out here," he murmured. "Cold, but nice."

Pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his coat, Bucky grabbed one, putting it in his mouth and lighting it. He put the pack back as Steve walked to stand beside his friend.

"I'm actually surprised you stayed in the city," Steve commented as Bucky took a long drag. "I know you have quite a few bad memories of the place."

Bucky nodded, watching Steve. "I did," he agreed. "But, at the same time, _just_ because there are bad memories of the place doesn't mean I'm going to leave it. Brooklyn is my home."

Steve nodded.

"So, I've been thinking it over," Bucky commented after a few moments of silence had gone by. "I've talked to both Dr. Banner and Tasha. What do you say about going out with me? We could go out whenever you're free."

"Just so I don't get my wires crossed," Steve said slowly as he watched Bucky closely, "you're asking me on a date. Right?"

Bucky nodded. "Yeah, I am," he answered. "But only if you want to. Only if you don't have plans with someone else."

"I don't." Steve's answer was immediate. If Bucky didn't know any better, he'd think that Steve had been waiting for this. "What day is good for you?"

"I have training with Sam every day except for Sunday," Bucky stated. "We work between two and three hours, and I'm pretty dead on my feet when I get home. How _is_ Sunday for you?"

"Sunday as in tomorrow Sunday?" Steve asked. "Or next week Sunday?"

"Which one's better for you?"

"Tomorrow night's good," Steve said quickly, watching Bucky closely. "We can do dinner? At, say, seven?"

"Sounds good," Bucky agreed.

"Peggy and Angie frequent this little place about four blocks from your apartment," he continued. "It's an Italian place, and I know how much you like Italian food. They give it a terrific recommendation. We could go there?"

"Sounds good, Stevie. Are you gonna pick me up, too?" Bucky had a smirk covering his lips, and Steve knew he was just joking, but he nodded solemnly.

"You bet your ass, Buck," Steve replied with a grin. "I'm gonna pull out all the stops."


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a trigger warning for car accidents, recovery, mentions of drug/alcohol addiction and addiction recovery.

Bucky honestly _didn't_ expect Steve to 'pull out all the stops,' like he said he was going to, but at seven o'clock, someone rang the doorbell.

Bucky had been super-nervous about the evening, because it'd been a good seven or eight years since he'd been on a real date. Quick fucks and hook-ups at clubs and bars didn't count. He had called Natasha in a frenzy around four o'clock, panicking and telling her how he was afraid he was going to fuck everything up. That's when she came over and helped him go through his closet.

Bucky didn't have much in the way of dressy clothes anymore. He hadn't dressed up in quite a while, and there wasn't a whole lot of need in his line of work for nice clothes, considering he spent a good portion of his time in the gym.

Natasha pulled a pair of dark blue jeans, a white t-shirt, and his tan leather jacket out of Bucky's closet. Bucky didn't often wear t-shirts and tank tops outside the house -- the gym was a completely different thing -- but when he covered it up with his leather jacket, he felt okay. He wasn't sure if he would take it off or not, but he knew Steve wouldn't say anything about his arm.

And for once, Bucky found himself actually _wanting_ to tell someone the story.

Becca had answered the door when she heard the doorbell because Bucky had been busy having his freak-out. Bucky'd had several freak-outs during the day; Becca was there for every single one of them, and they both knew how tempted Bucky was to just call the whole thing off.

God, he was fucking nervous.

Bucky could hear Becca as she greeted Steve in the hallway of the apartment, and they seemed to be laughing with one another. Becca called to her brother after a moment, telling him that his date was there, and Bucky took a deep breath before leaving his bedroom and walking down the stairs.

As soon as he saw Steve, his heart seemed to skip a beat. Steve looked absolutely _breathtaking_. He was wearing a pair of black jeans and what looked to be a dark blue Henley under a black leather jacket. God, the man looked absolutely _fantastic_.

When Bucky went to stand next to Becca, Steve grinned at him. He handed Bucky a bouquet of flowers with a sheepish look on his face.

"I got you flowers," he said softly. "I remember how much you used to love fresh flowers."

"Wow, Stevie," Bucky breathed. "I can't believe you remember that."

Steve's gaze was tender as he responded, "I remember a lot from our teenage years, Buck."

"Let me put those in water for you, Buck," Becca said, and for a brief moment, Bucky had forgotten she was even standing next to him. "That way the two of you can get going."

Before Steve and Bucky left the apartment, Becca reached over and gave her brother a hug. "I'm proud of you, big brother," she told him, stepping on her tiptoes to whisper in her brother's ear. She didn't want to say it out loud, because she knew that Bucky wouldn't want Steve to hear.

After she was back flat on her feet, she looked first at Bucky and then Steve. As she was watching Steve closely, she said, her face completely serious, "His curfew is midnight. I expect him back by then."

Bucky rolled his eyes, knowing that Becca was just kidding. "Knock it off, squirt," he said with a laugh. She just grinned as she watched Steve and Bucky leave.

"So, both Peg and Ang swear by Gino's," Steve said as they started their walk. It was only about four blocks, so they figured they could just walk it. "They go there all the time for their date nights."

"They have those often?" Bucky wondered aloud.

"One every couple of weeks," Steve answered. "I take care of Mia while they're out."

"You're good with her," Bucky noted. "You ever want a child of your own?"

"I'd like one," Steve nodded. "Right now, I adore playing godfather and uncle to Mia, but someday I'd really like to be a father myself. What about you?"

"Becca's like my kid," Bucky acknowledged. "I've only been her guardian for two years, and I've only been in contact with her for a little over three, but that girl is everything to me. I never knew I could love someone that much until I started taking care of her."

Steve smiled softly, but Bucky could hear Becca's voice in his head, _Wow, Buck, that was really sappy_.

"That's the way I feel about Mia," Steve said after a moment. "I love that girl so much. And both Becca and Mia are great girls."

They reached the restaurant, and Steve told the hostess he had a reservation under 'Rogers.' The girl nodded, leading Steve and Bucky to their table.

"Do you want to get a bottle of wine?" Steve asked, needing to know before their waitress got there. Bucky sighed, knowing he'd have to come clean.

"I can't have it, Steve," he said quietly. Steve looked at him seriously.

"Stevie, I didn't want to tell you this," Bucky continued softly, "but I have an alcohol problem. I don't often talk about it, but I can't be around alcohol -- not even for special occasions."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Steve asked, looking hurt. "Is there something untrustworthy about me?"

Bucky shook his head. "No, that's not it, Stevie," he said, sighing. "Like I've said before, I'm not the same guy you used to know, and a lot has happened to me since you enlisted in the Army. I didn't want you to be ashamed of me."

"Ashamed of you?" Steve repeated. "Why in the hell would I be ashamed of you?"

When the waitress came, they ordered drinks and their dinners as they continued their conversation. "Stevie, after you enlisted, I had a hard time dealing with things. I was a fighter and living my dream, yes, but I missed my best friend and baby sister. I felt so alone in the entire world and had no idea what to do. I started to drown my sorrows in alcohol."

Steve was quiet, so Bucky decided to continue, "I made some bad decisions. Some _really_ bad decisions. I did things I shouldn't have. Got addicted to alcohol. I surrounded myself with the wrong crowd and I was looking for love and acceptance in a place I shouldn't have."

Steve nodded.

"Look, Stevie, I didn't want you to realize how much I'd changed since those days back at St. V's," Bucky admitted. "You were always my oldest friend. Well, you and Tasha. I don't want you to think badly about me."

Their dinners arrived just then, but Steve looked at Bucky very intently, "Buck, I could _never_ be ashamed of you, do you hear me? You've been hit really hard with a lot of shit, but you're still on top. You've made it through the hell of a life you've lived, and you're still whole."

Bucky let out a nervous laugh, "I don't know about that."

"Well, I do," Steve said confidently, reaching across the table to grab Bucky's hand. "You may be a little broken, a little scarred, but you're still you. I loved you back at St. V's and I love you now. I promise."

That made Bucky smile.

***

They sat at the restaurant and talked for almost an hour after their plates were empty. When they were growing up at St. Vincent's, Steve and Bucky had always clicked, and had always had so many things in common. Even though they had spent years apart, they seemed to be picking up right where they left off.

It was almost eleven when they reached Bucky's apartment. Bucky let them inside, and Becca was asleep on the couch. Bucky looked back at Steve for a moment, "I'm gonna put her to bed. Please don't go anywhere."

Steve nodded and watched Bucky climb the stairs.

It only took Bucky five minutes to put his sister on the bed, cover her up with the quilt that was on her bed, and place a kiss on her forehead.

When he came back downstairs, he saw Steve sitting on the couch. Bucky also sat down on the couch, at what he thought was a reasonable distance from his friend.

"You started to tell me something at the restaurant," Steve prompted as he scooted over so he could sit next to Bucky. "If you're interested in sharing, I'm interested in listening."

Bucky nodded.

"Stevie, there's something I want to tell you. I haven't told you yet, and I wasn't going to tell you for a while, but I feel comfortable enough to share," Bucky said to him, and he saw the surprise come over Steve's features.

"I'm listening, Buck," Steve said softly. "You can tell me anything you want."

"I really missed you, Stevie," Bucky admitted softly. He watched Steve very carefully before continuing, "After we lost contact, I was a boxer, and a damn good one at that. I loved what I was doing, I loved being in the ring, I loved fighting. When I won a fight, it gave me a high like nothing else ever could."

Steve nodded, so Bucky decided to continue.

"Everybody's got critics. It doesn't matter who you are -- it doesn't matter if you're an A-list celebrity or if you're just a low-level boxer. I mean, I was good, yeah, but I wasn't exactly Johnny Depp. Sure, people in boxing circles knew who I was, but I wasn't an A-lister by any means. I was always surrounded by people."

Steve nodded again.

"After I won the welterweight championship for the second time, I was outed. There was a gay club I used to frequent -- it's not around anymore, and I wasn't there a lot, just every once in a while when I needed to let off some steam, I'd get together with a few friends and go there. Well, there was this guy who tended to follow me around, and he followed me there one night and got a picture of me kissing a guy. It was in the papers the next day.

"Things aren't easy for LGBT folk. _Especially_ not for LGBT boxers. God, boxing has this stigma of a very masculine sport and anybody who thinks about male boxers tend to think about the stereotypical alpha male. And I fit that description for a long time.

"But then that story came out about me. Big picture on the front page of the sports section of the Times. And the backlash I got was particularly terrible. Now, up to this point, I used alcohol recreationally. A beer here and there. A glass of champagne to celebrate. A glass of wine with dinner every once in a while. I tended to be a social drinker. But that story changed _everything_.

"I was a boxer who'd been brought up on _nothing_. A hell of a life in foster care and fighting for my own life. When everything started, I was the fucking underdog. After the story came out, though, I started drinking more and more, and I would train harder than I ever did before. I felt like I had something to prove; people straight up asked me if I was ashamed of who I was. It was as if they thought being pan was something to be ashamed of -- which I'm not. I've _never_ been ashamed to be me; you know that. So training and drinking was all I did.

"I was fucked up when I won the third welterweight championship. I knew how to do _anything_ while I was fucked up. It wasn't just alcohol, either -- I tried every drug you could think of. I wasn't addicted to any of those things, though; I was just addicted to the alcohol.

"I was high as a fucking kite when I won that championship. Went out and celebrated and got so fucking drunk. Then came the accident.

"I'd been drinking, way too fucking much. I shouldn't have even though about driving my bike that night. I barely knew which goddamned way was up, but I did it anyway. Biggest fucking mistake of my life. The accident itself was horrendous. I honestly don't remember it, but I've seen the news stories and newspaper clippings. I ran into a minivan and my bike went flying. I was dragged before the bike fell on top of me. Tore the fuck out of my arm and then tore the rotator cuff in my shoulder.

"Thankfully, the family in the minivan survived. Only minor scratches -- they didn't even spend a night in the hospital. I got the worst of it -- which was what I fucking deserved. I was the idiot who'd been drinking, after all. I spent the next six months in physical therapy, but they only sentenced me to six months community service. Spent my time helping out at a food bank and then a group home. I was thankful it hadn't been worse, but at the same time, I didn't think I got what I deserved. I could've gotten more -- hell, I _should've_ gotten more. Part of my sentence was that I enter rehab -- which I did. I spent four months at a rehab, over in Manhattan.

"I knew that I was never going to fight again. The doctors made that _very clear_. My shoulder is fucked up and I can't rotate it _at all_. I can barely lift my arm over my head. Almost seven months after getting out of rehab and living off my earnings as a boxer, Dugan contacted me. Told me he'd heard about my accident and that I couldn't _fight_ anymore, but he was so sure that I could still _train_. You know Dugan and I were good pals and often trained with each other over the years, so he had a pretty good idea of what I'd be able to handle. He offered me a place in his gym and wanted to take me on for a month's probationary period before making up our minds. I eventually did a great job and loved it, and I used about seventy percent of what I'd saved up to be partners with him.

"Alcohol ruined my life. It wasn't hard for me to quit the other drugs, as they were just recreational and I seldom used them, but the alcohol was what killed me. I removed it from my house and didn't go anywhere it was prominent. I quit drinking, and only relapsed once. It wasn't long after I got the gym and bought this place that I reunited with Becca. She and I got to know each other again, and a little over a year later, I was filing for guardianship, with both Mags and Erik's approval. They knew everything I'd done, everything I was, and they still supported my relationship with Becca. They still told the judge I should get her. They told him that she needed me as much as I needed her. Surprised the hell outta me when I was approved." 

He took a deep breath, his head bowed. He was staring at the floor, because he knew that when Steve heard the whole story, he wouldn't want him anymore. Bucky had caused destruction, and even though it'd been mostly to himself, he wasn't worthy of anyone loving him -- and especially no one who was so worthy of love like Steve was.

He was preparing himself for Steve to walk out. It wouldn't surprise him at all if he _did_ ; Bucky wasn't worthy of love. He was surprised as hell that Natasha and Becca loved him like they did, but Steve was so pure. He was bright and sweet, and the best man Bucky himself had ever known. When Steve left him now, Bucky knew that he'd be incredibly deserving of it.

That didn't happen, though. Steve took a couple of breaths, digesting all of the information that Bucky'd just given him, and then softly spoke, "Buck, look at me."

Even though Steve's voice was soft, just a whisper, Bucky knew an order when he heard one. Obediently, he raised his eyes to look into Steve's.

"I'm actually really glad that you told me all of that," Steve said to him as he watched Bucky's eyes intently. "I know that you've been through hell, and going through what you did must've torn you apart. I know you think you deserve bad things because of the bad that's happened to you in your life, and also because of the things that you've done that you regret. But let me tell you this much, Bucky; I'm fucking _proud_ of you, do you hear that? Proud that, even though you've gone through all this bullshit, you've grown to be the man you are now. You could've done so many things, Buck, but the thing you're most ashamed of is getting drunk and getting into a car accident. There's so much fucking more that you could've done. Theft, murder, kidnapping -- but you didn't do any of that shit. You're a good man, James Buchanan Barnes."

Bucky couldn't help it; he surged forward and captured Steve's lips with his own. He felt an overwhelming sense of attraction go through his entire body and he couldn't help himself. Lifting his hand, he caressed the side of Steve's neck, and Steve leaned forward, deepening the kiss. There was no hesitation about this; Steve wanted it _just_ as badly as Bucky did.

Breaking the kiss so they could breathe, Bucky rearranged himself as he pushed Steve backwards, so his back was against the couch. Bucky straddled Steve's hips and leaned in to kiss him again.

Kissing Steve was right out of Bucky's masturbatory fantasies when he was younger. Bucky had wanted to be with Steve _so_ badly back then, and he was going to savor this for as long as he possibly could. Wrapping his arms around Steve's neck, he ground himself down on Steve's lap as he continued to kiss his lips hungrily.

Steve's arms entwined around Bucky's middle and he rested his hands on the small of his back. Bucky sighed happily as he attacked Steve's mouth with his own. He loved the way Steve felt against his body and felt like he could sit here and make out with Steve all night if he let him. Even though this was what Bucky wanted, and what he'd dreamt of ever since he was sixteen years old, he broke the kiss.

They were both panting, gasping for breath, so, resting his forehead against Steve's, Bucky took a moment to just enjoy being held by Steve.

"Something wrong, sweetheart?" Steve asked gently. Bucky's heart fluttered when he heard the term of endearment; sure, over the years, he'd heard Steve call other people that, but he _never_ thought he'd _ever_ be on the receiving end of one of Steve's _sweethearts_.

"I'm fine," he answered, watching Steve's face closely. "I really am. I Just want to slow down a little, Stevie. I just want to go into this relationship slowly -- I don't want to rush things."

Steve nodded. "Good idea, sweetheart," he said softly, cupping the back of Bucky's neck and rubbing his thumb across his skin. "I'm all for that."

***

Steve and Bucky spent a good portion of the night just talking and making out, and Bucky really didn't want to let go of Steve, so by the time they were tired, Steve just decided to spend the night. After talking about it, they decided that neither of them was ready to go any further than just kissing, but Bucky thought it was really nice to feel another body in bed with him.

When Bucky's alarm sounded at six the next morning, he groaned softly as he woke up. He _really_ didn't want to get out of his nice, warm bed, especially since Steve was practically like his very own space heater.

It didn't matter the temperature; Bucky was always _freezing_ whenever he woke up in the morning. It could be one hundred degrees outside, but he was always really cold whenever he woke up. He woke up that Monday morning with Steve's body wrapped around his own, and he felt so good that he had to literally _force_ himself out of bed.

"'s the matter?" Steve asked groggily as Bucky pulled himself free of Steve's grip. Bucky could tell that Steve wasn't used to getting up so early. "Ever'thing okay?"

Bucky leaned over to nuzzle Steve's neck before saying, "It's okay, Stevie. I gotta get up, gotta get ready for work. You can stay as long as you want, though."

Steve just nodded as he closed his eyes once more.

After throwing himself into the shower, Bucky threw on a pair of blue jeans and a t-shirt, which was what he usually wore to the gym. He went downstairs to put something together for breakfast.

He liked to make Becca breakfast whenever he could, because he worked so much that he wanted to savor as much time with his sister as he could. He pulled out the bread and eggs, deciding to make some French toast.

Becca always got up half an hour after Bucky did, and she also always insisted on eating breakfast before she got ready for school. Breakfast, she'd always said, helped her wake up, and that way she didn't accidentally drown herself in the shower. Bucky always wondered how much of that was a joke.

After all, his sister in the morning was like an episode of _The Walking Dead_ , and she most definitely was _not_ one of the living.

As usual, the smell of warm cinnamon sugar roused his sister from her sleep, and she groggily made her way down the stairs, glasses haphazardly placed on her face. She groaned as she took a seat at the kitchen island counter.

"Too early," she groaned out. Bucky was familiar with his sister, and she didn't speak in complete sentences until she had been awake _at least_ twenty minutes. Bucky poured his sister some orange juice and then set a plate of French toast in front of her.

"How was your date?" Becca asked as Bucky started dishing up breakfast. He figured he could at least be a good... _boyfriend_? _Was_ Steve his boyfriend? They hadn't really defined the relationship, so he wasn't sure.

Well, regardless of what label they were putting on it, Bucky figured he would deliver breakfast in bed for Steve. He wanted to do it while the food was still hot, so he dished up Steve's breakfast and, after pouring a cup of coffee, told his sister he'd be right back.

Steve was barely awake when Bucky walked into the room, but he set the plate and coffee cup on the nightstand and leaned down to nuzzle Steve awake. He groaned as he opened his eyes.

"Hey, Buck," he smiled when he saw Bucky standing beside him. "What time is it?"

"Quarter to seven," Bucky answered. "I brought you breakfast in bed."

"Really?" Steve looked both surprised and touched. "That's so romantic."

Bucky blushed, "It's not a big deal."

Reaching up, Steve tangled his fingers in the hair at the nape of Bucky's neck and pulled him down for a kiss. The kiss grew heated very quickly, but it wasn't long before Bucky was pulling away.

"I'd love to stay in bed with you and make out," Bucky started, "but I gotta help Becca get ready for school and if I sit here with you, I'll be late for work, and I gotta unlock the gym at eight and Sam comes in at ten."

Steve pouted and it made Bucky chuckle; he looked too damn adorable.

"Eat your breakfast, Stevie. I've gotta go tend to Becca."

Steve nodded, and Bucky went back down to the kitchen, where Becca was now nursing a cup of coffee with her French toast. Bucky dished up his own breakfast and could practically _feel_ Becca's eyes on him.

"Yes, baby sister?" Bucky asked her.

"Who's upstairs, Buck?" Becca tried to sound innocent, but Bucky could practically _hear_ the smugness in his sister's voice.

"Alright, you brat, you win," Bucky huffed, pouring syrup on his French toast. "It's Steve." 

Becca's grin took up practically her whole face.

"Date night went well, then?" she asked, even though she _knew_ the answer to that question already. Bucky nodded.

"Fantastic, Becks," he admitted. "Dinner and talking. A little making out. It was after one o'clock when we got tired, so he spent the night in my bed."

"You didn't have a nightmare last night," Becca pointed out. Bucky nodded.

"I know," he said. "I haven't gone a night without a nightmare in several months. But then again, Steve always seemed to help me with that kind of thing, whether he realized it or not."

"I'm glad, Buck," Becca said sincerely. "You deserve all the happiness."

Bucky smiled at his sister.

Becca and Bucky always left the house at the same time in the mornings, but he wanted to talk to Steve before he went, so he told Becca that he'd see her later that night. She nodded, hugging her brother, and then went on her way.

Bucky went back upstairs, where Steve was sitting on the bed on his phone. He smiled as Bucky entered the room.

"Yeah, Peg, I can do that. Bring her tonight, okay? I'll be glad to take care of her." He paused for a moment before saying, "It's not a big deal, alright? I love taking care of Mia. Give Ang a kiss for me, okay?" He chuckled, presumably at something Peggy said, before nodding. "Yeah, I love you guys, too. See you tonight."

He looked up at Bucky when he ended the call and smiled at him.

"I've gotta go to work," Bucky said. "You can stay for as long as you want, but would you mind locking the door when you leave?"

"Yeah, sure," Steve answered, nodding. He watched Bucky for a few moments before standing and coming towards him. He wrapped his arms around Bucky's waist as he said, "I had a lot of fun last night, Buck. The best date I've been on in a _very_ long time."

Bucky could feel the blush color his cheeks.

"I'd like to go out again," Steve continued. "Peggy needs me to watch Mia for a couple of days, though; Angie's gonna be presented with some kind of award for that workshop she's doing, and Peg wants to be there, so she asked me to take care of Mia. But, when Peggy and Angie pick her up on Thursday, we can do this again if you want."

"I would _love_ to do this again," Bucky said. "I had a really great time last night." He paused for a few moments before adding, almost timidly, "I know you're taking care of Amelia for a couple of days, but would you mind I come over anyway? I could bring Becca? Make some kind of night of it?"

Steve's features softened as he nodded. "That sounds _fantastic_ , sweetheart," he said. "How about tomorrow night? That sound okay to you?"

Bucky nodded, "Yeah, Stevie. Sounds perfect."


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO SORRY this is so late. The Sims is just so fun, and the last week I've been laid up with a few pulled muscles in my stomach. Seriously, guys, stretching is a good thing.

"Hey there, lover boy," Clint said to Bucky jokingly as he came through the front doors of the gym that morning. "I heard about your date."

Bucky rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah," he muttered. "I know Tasha tells you everything."

Clint laughed, "Yeah, she does. And how was it?"

"Are you trying to get gossip from me, Barton?" Bucky asked incredulously as he went into his office. He had a client who came in from eight-thirty to ten every day, so he only had twenty minutes to get ready for her.

To his question, Clint laughed. "Of course not, Buck," he answered. "Gossip is about _someone else_. I'm asking about _yourself_."

Bucky rolled his eyes.

"Oh, come on, Barnes," Clint scoffed. "You and I have been friends for a long time. I think I deserve to know how your date went." He watched Bucky for a few moments before adding, "Especially since you and Steve had technically been dating all those years ago."

Bucky's brow furrowed and he glanced at his friend. "What the fuck are you talking about, Barton?"

"C'mon, Buck, don't tell me you never noticed," Clint said, a furrow in his own brow. "You and Steve have been hovering over one another for years."

"That may be true," Bucky nodded, "but Steve never liked me _back_."

"Jesus, Bucky," Clint rolled his eyes as he kept eye contact with his friend. "Steve _always_ liked you back. Are you telling me that you never noticed?" When Bucky continued to be silent, Clint added, "For fuck's sake, _he's_ the one who asked _you_ out."

Bucky nodded, "I know that, Barton, but if I'd asked him out back when I was just an angry kid at St. V's, are you telling me he woulda had me?"

There was complete smugness in the look Clint sent his way before he nodded, "Damn straight, Buck. He _totally_ would have." He smirked at the disappointed look on Bucky's face before adding, "Love's a bitch, huh, Barnes?"

***

The next day, when Bucky was working with Sam in the morning, Sam could tell how nervous Bucky was. Bucky just couldn't seem to get his nerves under control and felt like he was on edge, and that's when Sam told Morita -- the guy he'd been fighting with that day -- that he'd be right back, but he wanted to check on Bucky.

A lot like Steve, Sam seemed to be concerned with Bucky's mental state.

"What's up with you today, man?" Sam asked Bucky as he approached. "Something wrong?"

Bucky shook his head, but Sam shot him a look that told him he wasn't believing Bucky. Finally, Bucky took a deep breath and said, "I'm meeting up with Steve tonight."

"And that's scary?" Sam asked, but Bucky could tell he wasn't trying to mock or make fun of him -- no, Sam was completely confused, and that totally made sense.

Bucky shook his head before answering, "He's watching Amelia. Peggy and her wife are in London, and I wanted to see Steve, so Becca and I are going over there."

"And you're freaking out," Sam supplied with a nod. When Bucky also nodded, Sam added, "Yeah, man, I get it. Being around someone new is a little frightening at first."

"Steve and I have been friends for a long time, Sam," Bucky sighed. "We know each other inside and out."

"Let me guess," Sam said, watching Bucky closely. "It's the munchkin you're afraid of."

"How'd you know?" Bucky asked, surprised.

"Let me tell you a story, man," Sam said. After that, Morita came up and told Sam that would be good for the day. Sam nodded and Bucky followed him into the locker room. Bucky waited the five minutes that Sam was in the shower, and then, as Sam started dressing, Bucky sat on the bench and waited for Sam to continue.

"I've got a younger sister," Sam started, and when Bucky looked at him curiously, Sam nodded and smirked. "Yeah, you were so busy talking to your boy the night of the party that you didn't meet Sarah. Or Riley, for that matter. But that's okay -- that was all part of Nat's plan."

Bucky blushed, and Sam looked at him as he continued, "Sarah's got two boys. My two nephews -- Jody and Jim. They're now six years old and they're twins. Anyway, her good-for-nothing ex-boyfriend left when she was pregnant, and it wasn't until after I was discharged from the Air Force that I first met them. My ma and I pitched in to help Sarah raise the boys, and they were almost a year old when I came home. First time Sarah wanted to go out and our ma couldn't watch the boys, she asked me.

"I was _terrified_. Sarah was practically a kid when I went off to join the Air Force, so I'd never really been around kids. I've been dating Riley since we were both in high school, but he's an only child. My experience with kids was literally non-existent." Sam paused as he pulled a t-shirt over his head and then he continued, "I know _exactly_ what you're going through right now."

"I haven't spent time around a five-year-old child, except for the two hours at brunch a couple of weeks ago, since I was seventeen, Sam. When I was at St. V's, there were a couple of boys -- five and six -- and they took a liking to me, so I spent a lot of time with them. It's hard going through the system at any age, but when you're a kid -- it's so much harder. And Craig and Matt, they deserved everything good. They were _terrific_ kids; they just had a hard time of it. So I spent a lot of time with them."

Bucky sighed as he watched Sam's face as Sam sat down on the bench to tie his sneakers. "I haven't spent time around a small child like that in almost ten years, and then Steve comes into my life and with him comes Mia. Sure, Mia isn't _really_ Steve's child, but he's helped raise her. He's her uncle, her godfather, and he loves her. I want to make a good impression."

"Okay, dude, listen to me," Sam said, placing a hand on Bucky's right shoulder. It hadn't taken Sam long after he started hanging out with Bucky to realize that Bucky always took it harder when people touched his left side. "Steve likes you a whole lot -- and he has for some time. He's not going to stop just because you're rusty around kids."

Bucky looked concerned.

"Look, the point of my little story, Bucky, was that even though I was rusty around one-year-old Jody and Jim, and they were younger than Mia, it didn't take very long around my nephews to start to get to know them. To know what to do with them and what they liked. And the same will be said about you and Mia. She already likes you."

"What do you mean?" Bucky asked, crinkling his brow. "I barely know her."

"You've met and spent a little time around her," Sam answered him. "She's talked about you before. You're her Uncle Steve's _special friend_ , as she puts it, and Mia's a curious little kid. There isn't anything you should be afraid of."

"Still worried," Bucky mumbled.

Sam nodded, even though Bucky hadn't been sure that he'd heard him. "I know you are," he said, watching Bucky's stormy eyes with his own brown ones. "But it's really going to be okay. I promise."

***

Sam's little talk with Bucky helped him a lot. He was still nervous, but hearing Sam's perspective on the situation, and his experience with something like it, helped his anxiety _a lot_. Was he still apprehensive about spending time with Amelia? Damn right he was. One might even label it as scared. However, he knew that both Steve _and_ Becca would be there, and those were two people he'd trust with his life.

Becca had cheer practice after school, and they were tacking on an extra hour to most practices this week considering homecoming was on Saturday. She'd be done by six, however, and when Bucky had texted Becca to tell her about going to dinner and spending time with Amelia, she was really excited.

Well, that was what Bucky figured, considering the reply he'd gotten was _!!!_. Sometimes, Bucky had a really difficult time deciphering teenagers -- especially his sister.

Becca told her brother that she'd pick him up at work, considering she drove her car that morning and she refused to ride on motorcycles. Bucky always favored his bike and that was his preferred method of transportation, but for his sister, he'd easily do anything.

His sister was his entire world.

She picked her brother up at seven o'clock. Becca had needed time to shower after practice, but she and Bucky had agreed that seven would be good. Usually, the gym was open until eight, but when he didn't have any scheduled clients after a certain time, he was usually okay to leave, as long as it was only an hour or two before the gym was to close. Bucky had regular clients, and, of course, Sam Wilson, but they were done by the early afternoon.

Bucky was still really nervous. Even as Becca picked him that evening, he was still worried about things and how everything was going to play out. Bucky's anxiety sometimes got the best of him and he worried about what was going to happen.

He was a worrier, plain and simple.

When he slid into the front passenger's seat, he made a point to ignore the look his sister was throwing his way. Something was on Becca's mind, and Bucky knew _exactly_ what it was, and even though he was doing his damndest to ignore the weight of his sister's stare, he knew that she was going to bring it up anyway.

"You ready for this, Buck?" Becca asked her brother. She drove out of the parking lot at the gym and started down the road. The one thing about Becca was that she could easily remember directions once she'd been somewhere, so she most likely wouldn't get lost on the way to Steve's apartment again.

Bucky knew his sister. Bucky knew Becca like the back of his hand, and he knew her sometimes better than she knew herself. He knew _exactly_ what Becca was doing to him right now.

Becca always worried about Bucky's mental state. Honestly, everyone around him usually was. He had Becca, and Natasha, and now Steve. Sam even seemed to worry about Bucky and could always tell when he didn't get enough sleep, or something had been stressing him out. Hell, last week Bucky came in after having a severe night terror and Sam had been able to tell.

He'd always told Bucky to take a few minutes to just make sure he was alright before they got into anything really serious.

"Buck?" Becca asked again, and it was then that Bucky'd realized he'd zoned out just a bit. He watched his sister for a moment before smiling at her.

"Things are going great, Becks," he answered. Bucky knew that even though he could fake it all he wanted, Becca would never buy it. As she'd told him a thousand times, he wasn't that good of an actor.

"Don't bullshit me, James Buchanan Barnes," Becca said to him, and yeah, it was just like he'd thought. "I want to know what's going through that head of yours."

Bucky cocked his head to the side before licking his lips as he watched his sister. He'd never been able to pretend, not to Becca. Even before he got guardianship, when they were just talking when she was only fourteen, she'd always been able to see right through him.

Mags had told him once that it was a gift that Becca had always possessed.

"I'm gonna be fine, Becks," Bucky started, "and that's not a lie. I _am_ gonna be okay. I'm just nervous."

"Because she's a little girl? Or because you want to make a good impression and you're afraid that Steve's gonna pick up on your awkwardness?"

Damn her. Leave it to Becca to know exactly what Bucky was thinking.

"I'm not panicking or anything, Becks," Bucky sighed. "I'm just nervous that Mia isn't gonna like me. I don't know kids, alright?"

"Mags and Erik had a lot of kids," Becca said, glancing at her brother. "They have three biological kids, and they also tended to take in kids that not a lot of other people wanted. Whether they were young or teenagers, it didn't matter to them. Mags was an amazing mother, and even though Erik is rough around the edges, he's got a good heart."

"I've met Erik and Mags, Becca, remember?"

Becca could easily pick up on the irritated tone in her brother's voice, but, as she pulled into the parking lot of Steve's apartment complex, she just chuckled.

"I know you have, big brother," Becca's voice was soothing, almost like she was afraid of spooking him. "I know you know Mags and Erik, and that you like them, but that's not what the point of that was. The point was, Erik and Mags had a bunch of kids, and it doesn't take much for you to get used to them and how they work. Yeah, you're probably rusty, but it'll be easy to get yourself reacquainted. Besides, from what I hear, Amelia really likes you."

"Who'd you hear that from?"

Becca shrugged, "Well, Steve said it. Sam also told me."

"I knew that introducing you to Steve Rogers was going to be nothing but trouble," Bucky muttered. It made Becca chuckle again as she parked the car.

It didn't take them very long to climb the stairs to Steve's apartment. He was waiting for them and opened the door almost immediately.

"There you guys are," Steve smiled. "It's good to see you both."

"Where's Amelia, Steve?" Becca was practically bursting with excitement. It made Bucky laugh.

"She's in the living room," he answered after giving Bucky a peck on the lips. He looked behind Bucky to see his sister. "On my tablet. You wanna meet her?"

Becca nodded vigorously.

"Give me a few minutes and I'll introduce you. I wanna say hello to your brother first."

Becca just laughed and shot a wink Steve's way. She wandered into the living room as Steve cupped the back of Bucky's head and pulled him in for a kiss.

"Hey there, sexy," Steve murmured against Bucky's lips. Bucky just leaned in and gave Steve another kiss.

When they pulled apart, Steve watched him. "How was work?"

Bucky shrugged, "Work. It was fine. Sam's gettin' real good."

"Just a couple of weeks to the big fight," Steve mentioned, grabbing ahold of Bucky's hand. "You think he's gonna be good?"

"He's gonna be _spectacular_ , Stevie," Bucky grinned. "You'll see."

Bucky was having a hard time keeping his anxiety under control. He'd met Amelia one other time, and even though she had pretty much shown indifference to him at the time, and he was pretty sure she was going to continue to show indifference, he was still concerned about her reaction to him.

It took all of five minutes for Steve to introduce Becca to Amelia. Unlike when Bucky first met her, Becca gave her a look and then sat down, starting to tell Amelia how her best friend Gwen had the coolest unicorn backpack and did Amelia like unicorns as well? It only took about two minutes for Becca and Amelia to be engrossed in conversation, talking like they'd known each other for a while.

That night, Steve and Bucky cooked together, which was something they hadn't done since they were teenagers at St. Vincent's. Kitchen duty had actually been something Bucky had liked when he was in residential, because he'd always enjoyed cooking and was good at it. It was the one chore, however, that Steve had been banned from doing since the very first week he got there and caused a rather large kitchen fire. In the end, to keep the liability from St. Vincent's, the only thing Steve Rogers could do in the kitchen was eat.

Even though Steve probably _could've_ done the dishes, it was easier for them to just ban him altogether.

Bucky had been good at cooking when he was a teenager at St. Vincent's, but he had improved over the years, especially when he'd gotten guardianship of his sister. As much as she _could_ , Becca really _shouldn't_ sustain herself on pizza rolls and mac and cheese.

Bucky threw together a pizza and put it in the oven. After setting the timer, he pushed Steve up against the counter adjacent to the stove, grabbed the back of his neck, and pulled him down so he could attack Steve's lips with his own.

Bucky knew he wouldn't be able to get lost in a total make-out session with Steve without risking the pizza burning, but he figured that they could at least have a mini one.

Bucky always thought it was funny that when they'd met, he'd been at least five inches taller than Steve and almost twice as big, but now, all these years later, it was _Steve_ who towered over Bucky and had more bulk on him. It was almost as if they'd changed places, even though Bucky _had_ been a prized fighter.

Bucky knew he'd have to pay attention to how long they stood there, because if he let the pizza burn because he was too busy making out with -- his _boyfriend_? -- Becca'd give them hell.

That made Bucky stop for just a moment. _Was_ Steve his boyfriend? Were they _dating_ , or were they just going on causal dates? What _was_ the difference? Bucky hadn't actively and seriously dated anyone since he and Nat had given their relationship a try seven years ago, and the two of them had crashed and burned.

Reaching up, Bucky cupped the back of Steve's neck, caressing his thumb across the smooth skin he found there. Steve's hands remained possessively attached to Bucky's waist, and they were lost in their own little world for what seemed like a long time, until they heard the timer buzz.

Bucky grudgingly pulled himself away from Steve's mouth and body, pulling the pizza out of the oven.

The four of them ate in pleasant conversation. Bucky was quieter than the rest of them, but Becca and Amelia had just chatted away about anything and everything.

After dinner was finished, Steve sent the two girls into the living room to pick out something to watch. Amelia hadn't touched Steve's tablet in almost an hour and she and Becca were chatting animatedly.

"Does your sister babysit?" Steve asked Bucky curiously as they loaded the dishwasher. "'Cause I know Peggy and Angie are often looking for someone to take care of Mia when the three of us can't, and Becca's a natural."

"Her foster family, they had a lot of kids," Bucky explained. "Mags and Erik don't believe in being foster parents if you're just going to pick and choose which kids you take in. The kids they take in the most, though, are kids with mental and physical disabilities, 'cause they're the hardest to place. It taught Becca an insane amount of patience. And I know she'd love to babysit Mia sometime -- Becca seems to adore her just as much."

Steve nodded.

After popping a movie into the Blu-ray player, Bucky and Steve sat on the couch together, and they were followed by Becca and Amelia. They had a pretty nice puppy pile on the couch, and Bucky hadn't felt as comfortable in his skin as he did this very moment in a very long time.

Bucky and his sister left Steve's apartment a little after eleven, Becca looking back to where Amelia was asleep on the couch as Bucky gave Steve a kiss before they departed. Bucky had thought back to what exactly he and Steve were, considering they hadn't put any labels on it and he was worried about moving to categorize this thing the two of them had too quickly.

After kissing Steve goodbye, Bucky and Becca were on their way to her car. That's when she looked up at her brother, "That was painless, eh Buck?"

He just rolled his eyes at her.


	13. Chapter 13

Time was passing very quickly. Bucky had a good feeling about how Sam was shaping up, and his training was going phenomenally. He was still worried, though.

Bucky hadn't seen Brock Rumlow in _years_. Not since he was fifteen years old and leaving the Rumlow household, tears subtly in his eyes -- not because he was sad, but because he was so goddamned angry. They had decided to give him up, and his caseworker finally decided to listen to him about the abuse, but before his caseworker got there to escort him to the house that'd agreed to take him in, the Rumlows had insisted on going through every single one of Bucky's possessions, telling him what he was and wasn't allowed to take; what was theirs. He just let them do it because what was the use in stopping them? Besides, soon enough he'd be rid of them for good.

But it wasn't for good, was it? He refused to move out of Brooklyn, because even though he'd been through total hell in his life in this town, he grew up here. He was _born_ here. He wasn't leaving.

That's when he called up an old friend.

"Okay, kid, what's going on?" was the answer he got when the man answered the phone. "I thought you swore me off a long time ago."

Logan Howlett had been an old friend of Bucky's quite some time ago. Back he was still fighting, back when he was often fucked up on drugs and alcohol. Logan did them recreationally and when Bucky had to cut them out of his life for good, he knew Logan would never give them up completely, and that's when he cut ties.

"I need to see you," Bucky stated. He pulled a cigarette out of his pack and lit up on his balcony before taking a drag. "It's important."

"I'm engaged," was Logan's reply, and it made Bucky laugh.

"You and I were never even like that, don't even bullshit," Bucky laughed. He licked his lips and then asked, "You still fight?"

Logan had been a bit of a fighter. His style had been MMA; he'd never really been into boxing, but he knew the rules and techniques. However, the thing about Logan was that he fought to _win_ , and dirty fighting was his style. Logan had had a bit of a rough upbringing as well, and often fought to stay alive, but unlike Bucky, he believed that as long as you were still standing, you should do anything in your power to remain so. This was the reason that Bucky was calling him up to begin with.

"You need an MMA? I thought you were a boxer?"

"This is important," Bucky said. He let out a sigh before continuing, "I got a client. And I need to make sure he's ready."

"I'm listening," Logan's voice was gruff, and Bucky knew that Logan would let him speak his piece, but he would only listen for so long. "You got three minutes."

Bucky nodded even though he knew the other man wasn't able to see him.

He ran through the tournament, through Sam signing with Thor Odinson, even though Loki's challenge. When Bucky mentioned Sam's competition, though, Logan made an unintelligible noise.

"Brock Rumlow is a dirty fucking cheater," Logan spit out. "He'll do anything to win at all costs."

"Which is why I'm talking to you right now," Bucky nodded. He heard Logan's chuckle, but then continued, "Look, Logan, you never _really_ cheated, but you have to admit that a lot of your moves were questionable. I need someone to fight with Sam who isn't going to strictly play by the rules. Someone who can teach him how to adapt and change with what's happening in the moment -- to roll with things. Can you help me out or not?"

"When's the big fight?" Logan asked after a pregnant pause.

"Four days."

"And you waited until _just now_ to contact me? Jesus, kid, I don't know what I can do."

"Just fight with him a couple of times. I'll buy you a couple of those steaks you like so much."

"The Loft?" Logan asked excitedly, so apparently Bucky was right on the money about the steaks.

"Yep," he said simply. "Show up, fight a few rounds with Sam, do some explaining and teaching, and then I'll buy your steaks."

"Fine," Logan sighed. "Commandos Gymnasium, right? Over on 49th?"

Bucky hummed the affirmation.

"Tomorrow afternoon. Two o'clock. That work for you?"

"Definitely. Sam's been doing a lot more training with the match so close. Be on time, alright?"

Logan snorted, but bid Bucky goodbye and they hung up.

Even though Sam often had his sessions in the morning -- "I've got an early ass alarm from being in the military, Bucky, there is _no such thing_ as sleeping past five for me," he'd told Bucky when Bucky questioned it -- he agreed to come back that afternoon, even though he was a little worried about what was going to happen.

"Logan's a good guy," Bucky tried to soothe Sam's nerves. "I mean, he may seem a little questionable at first, but he fights to win. I need someone who's going to be able to teach you how to be sneaky but at the same time, stick to the rules. Brock's not gonna play fair, and you need to learn how to use that to your advantage."

Sam just nodded.

Along with Sam the next afternoon, Natasha and Steve both tagged along. Bucky realized that Steve knew who Sam was fighting that Saturday night when he saw the look on Steve's face.

"Why would you do this, Buck?" Steve asked, taking Bucky aside. "I mean, really? I know Brock isn't the one who left those marks on your body, but I also know that he left more serious marks in your head. Why are you subjecting yourself to him?"

Bucky sighed. "I'm the only one who can do this, Steve," he explained. "Logan's gonna help. Things are gonna be fine."

"I don't think it's a good idea," Steve said, and Bucky could tell that he was worried about him, about _this_. "Buck, I love you, you know that. I can't have you subject yourself to his torture again."

Bucky licked his lips before leaning in and giving Steve a chaste kiss. "Trust me, Stevie, I know what I'm doing," he said softly. "I want you to understand that I'm not worried about my psyche. I've been through a lot. And a bunch of it _is_ because of Levi Rumlow's torture, you're right about that. I'm still standing, though, and that's all that matters. After every fucking thing that's happened to me, I'm alive. Don't you trust me, baby?"

Sighing, Steve nodded. "Yeah, pal, I do, but I still worry about you. I love you and I don't want you to get hurt."

"And what about me?" Sam called from the ring, where Natasha was helping him tape his hands. "Aren't you worried about me?"

"No matter what happens, Wilson, I'm never going to love you. Not the way I love Bucky."

That just made Sam laugh.

As long as Bucky Barnes had known Loga Howlett, he'd always known how to make an entrance. Logan and Bucky had met way after Steve had left to enlist in the Army, and so Steve had never met him before. Bucky could feel him start to tense, even when he reached out to shake Logan's hand.

"Thanks for coming, Logan," he said to his friend. Ex-friend? Whatever. "How've you been?"

Bucky knew right away that Sam could tell how Bucky was tensing, which meant Bucky was worrying. He was the compassion in Sam's eyes, but prayed to whatever deity that may be listening that he wouldn't say anything about it, especially not to Steve.

"Good." Logan nodded towards a brunette woman standing in the doorway. "This is Kayla, my fiancée. Kayla, Bucky Barnes."

"Nice to meet you," Bucky nodded. The woman smiled at him.

"Kay and I met at an MMA tournament about five years ago," Logan continued. "Back before you stopped fighting."

Bucky nodded.

"Howlett," Natasha greeted Logan. Unlike Steve and Sam, Natasha and Clint knew _exactly_ who Logan was and how he had affected Bucky in the past. "Do I need to pat you down?"

Logan shook his head, "Nah. I stopped doing that shit a long time ago. I only drink on occasion now and cigars are it for me, sweetheart."

"I don't like 'em," Kayla said from her spot against the wall. "The drugs and alcohol. I lost my sister to an overdose about three years ago. Logan promised to stop after that."

"I'm sorry," Bucky said softly. Then he looked at his friend, "That's good, though. It's good that you're no longer involved in that."

Logan just shrugged.

"Okay," Bucky said a mere moment later, after introducing Logan to Sam and Steve. Bucky noticed Logan give a sideways glance to Steve, but he didn't say anything. "Pretty much everything I told you on the phone stands. Brock Rumlow is a dirty fucking fighter and I need someone to prepare Sam for what he could be facing."

"For what he's _going to_ be facing," Logan amended. He glanced at Sam and then said, "Look, kid, I'm gonna level with you. Brock Rumlow is a dirty fighter. He does what he can to ensure his victory every goddamned time, and I want to make sure you're going to be victorious over him."

"Only thing, Wolverine," Bucky put in, "is that you've gotta make sure Sam fights by the rules. He needs to abide by the rules, but other than that, he can be sneaky if the situation calls for it."

"Wolverine?" Steve questioned, looking from Bucky to Logan.

"My fighting name," Logan laughed. "Got the name because people used to say that I was vicious as a wolverine."

"Stevie, Logan over there _is_ as vicious as a wolverine. But the thing about Logan is that he fights fair, even as sneaky as he can be."

Steve nodded.

"Alright, enough talk," Logan declared a moment later. "Let's get this show on the road."

Logan coached Sam through a few rounds, which lasted a couple of hours. He wanted to make sure Sam was prepared for what he was going to be facing with Brock Rumlow, and Sam seemed to understand that. They broke up around four o'clock, when Bucky told Logan that Sam needed some time to unwind.

As Sam went to shower, Logan looked at Bucky. "So where are my steaks?"

"You know what, Wolverine?" Bucky laughed. "You've always had the ability to make me laugh." He looked at Steve and Natasha, "You guys want steaks? I'm buying."

Bucky told Natasha to call Clint while they headed over to the restaurant. If Clint found out that Bucky was buying steaks at The Loft and didn't invite him, he'd kill him. Or, at least, injure him. Clint _loved_ their steaks, and Bucky wasn't cruel enough to leave him out of it.

The dinner went well and was really nice. Bucky wasn't sure if he should've cut off contact with Logan -- being with him made Bucky feel a lot more at peace than he had since he'd stopped drinking. Sure, he had Steve, and Clint and Natasha, but Logan had always had the capability to see directly through Bucky and not buy any of his bullshit. Even though Logan was only five years older than Bucky, he'd always called him _kid_ , and that bugged Bucky a little, but it was at this dinner that Bucky'd realized how much he'd missed hearing it.

"Are you dating Bucky?" Logan asked Steve that night, looking directly at him. Bucky cocked his head; he wasn't sure if Logan was being protective of his friend or if he was just prying. When Steve nodded the affirmative, Logan said, "Take care of me. Bucky needs that sometimes."

"I didn't know you cared," Bucky said to Logan sarcastically, and Logan's answer was just to flip him off.

After dinner was over, Bucky went back to his apartment, Steve in tow. Steve had started sleeping over once in a while as of about a week ago, and even though Bucky'd offered to sleep over at Steve's apartment sometimes, he'd declined.

"I know you need to be there for Becca, and I don't mind," Steve had answered him soothingly. Then he laughed, "Besides, your apartment is both bigger and way nicer than mine."

When they'd gone to dinner, Bucky had gotten Becca a steak to go, because he also knew that she'd kill him if she found out he'd gone to The Loft and not brought her dinner, too. She told Bucky how she'd already eaten but was going to put the steak in the refrigerator and _it'd better be there in the morning, Buck, I swear to God_.

After Becca'd gone to bed, Bucky looked at Steve, "You wanna go upstairs and make out a little?"

Steve had given Bucky a bright smile before nodding. Bucky grabbed ahold of Steve's hand and led him up the stairs.

Even though Bucky and Steve had been dating for almost three weeks, they hadn't slept together yet. Sure, they _slept together_ , but that meant they had just shared a bed and slept. Bucky didn't want to rush and fuck up the relationship, and Steve wanted to make sure he didn't rush Bucky into something he wasn't ready for.

Once they were lying on Bucky's king-sized bed, Steve leaned over and put his lips on Bucky's. The start of the kiss was almost hesitant; Steve was acting as though he wanted to make sure that Bucky was okay with the kissing, even though it had been Bucky who suggested making out. Steve gathered Bucky into his arms and he started getting a little more aggressive, attacking Bucky's lips with his own.

When Bucky took all of his strength and flipped them over, straddling Steve's hips, he leaned down and started kissing Steve's neck. He licked and sucked, starting with his jaw, and then down his neck, to the space between his neck and shoulder. He was sucking a bruise into Steve's skin, almost like laying a claim on him.

"Buck, so good," Steve was moaning as Bucky was sucking on his skin, and then Bucky started kissing his way back to Steve's mouth. His tongue slid across Steve's lower lip, silently asking for access, and Steve granted it. Their tongues slid together, and as they made out, Bucky started grinding down on Steve's lap, their lengths sliding together, and _goddamn_ , it felt so fucking good. That's when Bucky broke the kiss and looked directly at Steve.

"I know we've been taking our time," Bucky said softly, watching Steve's crystal blue eyes closely, "but I really wanna feel you. If you don't want it, it's fine, we can cuddle and make out, but I wanna feel your skin against mine."

"I want it," Steve moaned. "Wanna feel your skin, Buck."

Bucky grinned.

Their shirts went first; Bucky loved to feel Steve's skin against his. Even though they hadn't gone all the way yet, when they slept they slept just in boxers, so he'd felt Steve's skin against his before.

Soon, their pants and boxers were also discarded, and Bucky gave Steve a kiss on his lips before moving down Steve's body. He swirled his tongue around Steve's right nipple, kissing it and scraping his teeth over it, and then did the same thing to the left one. Steve let out a moan, which told Bucky he was doing something right, and he scraped his teeth over Steve's nipples once more.

He kissed down Steve's stomach, sucking a bruise into Steve's lower abdomen, and then took a moment to look at Steve's cock. It was long and thick, hard and curving towards his stomach, wet at the tip. It was fucking _beautiful_.

Bucky's eyes met Steve's once more as he licked a stripe up the underside of it. God, how had he gone his whole life without knowing how Steve tasted? Not just that, but when he put his mouth on him and took his cock as far down his throat as he possibly could, Steve let out a whimper. It was like music to Bucky's ears and he wasn't sure how he'd gone so long without ever hearing that noise.

Whilst sucking Steve's cock, Bucky reached up and cupped Steve's balls, rolling them gently in his palm. He loved everything about this -- he loved the taste of Steve's skin, loved the way his skin felt against Bucky's own, and he loved the noises that were leaving Steve's lips.

If Bucky were to die right now, he'd die happy.

He wasn't sure how long he was down there, sucking on Steve's cock -- it felt like minutes, but also like an hour -- before Steve was grasping at Bucky's hair and mumbling out, "Get off, Buck. I'm gonna come, and I don't want to yet."

Bucky licked another stripe up the underside of Steve's cock before looking his boyfriend in the eye.

"God, get up here," Steve groaned, and Bucky kissed him. It started soft and got a little more hungry as time went on. That's when Steve flipped Bucky onto his back so he could get a taste of him.

"I've been wanting to taste you forever," he admitted, watching Bucky's stormy eyes with his own. "I've been dying to know how you taste and what kind of noises you make," Steve continued before he licked a stripe up the underside of Bucky's cock. God, Steve was making him feel so fucking _good_ , and Bucky wasn't sure how much longer he'd be able to go on before he came. When he intertwined his fingers into Steve's hair, it didn't make Steve stop; no, if nothing else, it seemed to spur him on. And when Bucky yanked just a bit, Steve moaned. The vibration of it on Bucky's cock made Bucky groan.

"Stevie, I'm gonna come, you gotta pull off baby," Bucky uttered, and Steve did as he requested. Taking a moment to gaze at his boyfriend, Steve bridged the gap between them, kissing his boyfriend hungrily.

"Do you have a preference?" Steve asked as they broke apart. "I mean, do you want to top, or bottom, or does it even matter?"

"I'm versatile," Steve admitted, "but right now I want to feel your cock inside me. Please, Bucky, will you please fuck me?"

Bucky nodded and reached into his nightstand drawer to pull out a bottle of lube and a condom. He slicked up his hand, making sure his fingers were nice and wet, and circled a finger around Steve's hole. He kissed him all the while, making sure to make love to Steve's mouth with his own. When he inserted the first finger to the third knuckle, Steve let out a huge groan.

As Bucky prepared him, inserting one finger that turned to two and then three, Steve broke the kiss and said, "Enough, baby. I want to feel your cock inside me. Please."

"You wanna feel my cock in your ass, Stevie?" Bucky asked as he gave Steve one more kiss. When he broke it, Steve nodded vigorously. "How do you want it?" 

"I wanna see your face," Steve admitted. Bucky nodded, rolling the condom down his length and then giving Steve one more kiss before entering him.

God, Steve was so fucking tight. It'd been a while since Bucky had topped; he was also versatile, like Steve was, but he liked the feeling of a cock inside him. But Steve was so tight around him, so hot and just felt so goddamned _amazing_. Bucky moaned as he bottomed out inside his boyfriend.

He leaned down to give Steve a kiss, and started thrusting in and out slowly. He was going as deep as he could, and as he leaned his forehead against Steve's, just savoring the way Steve felt around him, he couldn't help but notice Steve's eyes roll back.

"So good, Buck," Steve whimpered. He wasn't being very loud; no, his voice was barely a whisper, but there was so much emotion in that one sentence. Bucky straightened up, throwing Steve's legs over his shoulders, and started thrusting a little harder.

"So, good," Steve repeated, and then looked at Bucky. "Harder, Bucky, _please_. I wanna feel you really fuck me."

Bucky groaned at the sound of Steve's voice, but he did as his boyfriend requested. There wasn't any other noise in the room other than the sound of skin slapping on skin, and Bucky felt euphoria. He had never felt anything as good as the feeling of Steve tight around him.

Steve reached down and started stroking his cock as Bucky started pounding into him hard and fast. Bucky had never been as glad as this moment that he didn't have a headboard; his room was right beside Becca's and they shared a wall, and he knew that she'd bitch about him having kept her up if they'd made too much noise.

"C'mon, Stevie, I know you're close," Bucky murmured. He was so close, he was going to come, but he refused to come before Steve. "C'mon, baby, come for me, I know you want to."

Not a moment passed before Steve was coming, white striping his chest and went as far as the bottom of his neck. It wasn't much longer before Bucky was coming into the condom, caused by the feel of Steve's orgasm on his cock. He let out a low moan as he did.

He stayed inside Steve's ass for a few moments before he leaned down and gave Steve a sweet kiss before sliding out of him. He tied the condom off and threw it in the trash bin he kept by the bed and grabbed a tissue out of the box he kept on the nightstand to wipe Steve up a little. After tossing the tissue in the trash bin as well, he pulled Steve close and cuddled him as they both drifted off.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! Last chapter! I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to get here, but I've had one hell after the other in my life, it seems. Thanks for reading!

When Friday night came, Bucky was nervous. He had been so nervous all day long, in fact, that Dugan had rallied up the guys and they had forced Bucky to go home. They even went so far as to call Steve and make sure that someone kept an eye on Bucky.

Steve had brought his bike over and taken Bucky to Peggy's. In the three weeks that Bucky and Steve had been dating, Bucky had been to brunch at Peggy and Angie's every week, getting to know Peggy again and meeting her wife. Bucky liked Angie; she was a sweet girl who spoke her mind and Bucky really could appreciate that about her. His favorite thing was how Angie called Peggy 'English' and how they seemed to be a really good fit. He could tell that Angie cared for Peggy a lot and nothing in the entire world mattered to her more than her wife and daughter.

"The fight's tonight, isn't it?" Peggy asked, serving Bucky some lemonade. He laughed at that, and when Peggy asked him what was wrong, he looked at her.

"People don't associate lemonade with November," he'd answered her. "In fact, my sister always teases me that I make it."

Peggy just laughed, but then looked expectantly at Bucky. "The fight's tonight," she repeated. "Do you think Sam's ready?"

Bucky nodded, "Yeah, I do. He's been training his...butt off." He was going to say something else, but he glanced over to where Amelia was watching him intently. "He's been working really hard. He's going to win."

"You sure?" she asked him. He nodded.

"I was the three-time welterweight champion," he stated. Sometimes, when he did that, he worried that people would take that as bragging, but that wasn't his intention. "I know a winner when I see one, and Sam's really good. He's going to do great." He glanced over at Peggy before asking, "Are you coming?"

She nodded. "Angie isn't into that kind of thing, but it's been forever since I've seen a good fight. She's going to stay home with Mia."

That's when Amelia started to pull Steve out of the room, talking about how he'd promised to color with her, and Peggy took the opportunity to talk to Bucky more seriously.

"I know Brock Rumlow is the fighter," she said, eyeing Bucky closely, "and I know that his parents and brother are going to be there as well. Are you worried?"

"I know you're a criminal profiler, Peg, and I'm proud of you for that, but I really don't want to be shrinked right now."

"This is important, Jaime," she said seriously, watching his eyes. "Just tell me, one old friend to another, are you worried? About flashbacks, or even a red-out?"

Bucky sighed before nodding. "I am," he confessed. "That's why I asked Becca and Steve to be there. But things are going to be okay."

She nodded, "I know how much you hate people prying into your life, Jaime, so I'm not going to. Just know that Becca, and Steve, and I are going to be there for you one hundred and ten percent, okay? I know you're worried, but things are going to be okay."

Bucky nodded, "I sure hope so."

***

Bucky helped set up for the fight that night, which caused him and his group of friends to be at the gym a couple hours before the fight. His nerves were practically eating him alive, causing the butterflies in his stomach to be almost vicious, and he'd never missed alcohol as much as he did in this moment.

He'd done well at avoiding the Rumlows, and his nerves were settling,but that's when it happened. Levi Rumlow walked into his gym.

It felt like his heart stopped. Bucky looked at Levi, who had a smirk on his face, a lot like the guy Bucky'd experienced in his teenage years.

"Look at you, all grown up," he stated. Even though Levi had hurt Bucky so much back then, Bucky wasn't going to show how upset he was. He refused to show it because he knew that Levi would get off on it. "Boxing champion and running your own gym, even. Guess it's all the sense I beat into you."

Bucky rolled his eyes as he clenched his fist. He wasn't going to cause a scene, even though he _really_ wanted to beat some sense into Levi at this moment. Instead, he said, calmly, "If you beat anything into me, Rumlow, it wasn't sense. I did this all on my own."

"Keep telling yourself that," Levi laughed. "My brother is going to beat your guy, though, you can be sure of that."

"I don't know," Bucky said, watching Levi. "My guy could surprise you."

When the match started, Bucky was nervous. In fact, he was sure he'd never been more nervous in his entire life. He'd heard about how Brock was a dirty fucking cheater, and he'd also trained Sam to the best of his ability. Logan had set up a mock fight between himself and Sam just yesterday, and Sam had beat him with hardly any trouble at all, but then again, Logan was _not_ Brock.

The fight started with them circling one another. Sam was on the defense, mostly since Bucky had told him how offensive Brock fought. He managed to block every single blow Brock tried to throw his way, and he was doing well. Bucky was seriously proud of Sam.

Dugan had offered to referee, and Bucky knew that, even though Dugan hated the Rumlows for the torture they’d inflicted on Bucky, he was going to be fair and square. However, he’d told Bucky that he was going to keep a close eye on Brock to make sure he wasn’t cheating.  
Round one ended when Sam had managed to get a punch in and Brock went down hard. He let out a breath of relief when they had to revive Brock to continue the match.

The second round, Brock was even more on the offense. He came in hard and attacked Sam with everything he had, but that didn’t seem to help his case at all. Sam had gotten used to Brock’s style, and had knocked him out easily.

It was a total knockout. Brock couldn’t even get back up, and even though it was usually three rounds, Brock was down for the count. The grin spread all over Bucky’s face and he couldn’t hide how proud he was of Sam.

He went up to Levi Rumlow. He looked him up and down and then said, “Like I said, you didn’t beat sense into me. And, if anything, I want to thank you. You made me who I am, and I wouldn’t have been me without your torture.”

When Steve embraced Bucky after Sam’s victory, giving his boyfriend a hug and a big kiss, Bucky smiled brightly. And with his best friends, his boyfriend, and his sister beside him, Bucky knew he’d be able to move on with his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the story was left open-ended, and that's on purpose. I am going to be adding to this universe on occasion; little snippets and things of Bucky's life with PTSD and how Steve helps. Also little looks into dad!Bucky as he navigates raising his sister, and his relationship with Steve. It's not all butterflies and flowers from here on out, guys.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading my story! And stay tuned!

**Author's Note:**

> If you like my writing please consider [buying me a coffee](https://ko-fi.com/gabby227).
> 
> I'm now taking prompts on my [tumbr](http://gabby227.tumblr.com/).


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